Kyle E. Christie

Flickering rumble as he arrives
He’s drunk again
little red lighter
Your digits press it like coal
but no hope of diamond
And the lighter sparks a new day
Far away from the next twelve hours of grief
And pain and arguing that
Are so far away in the thick flicker of
Warm escape.

Hold it up again
A shield against the knowledge
That men in uniforms are coming to
Take him away and you’ll be free and
Alone with the guilt.
Guilt of the survivor.
And by the time they get there
Your anesthesia is complete
And they ask you if you want
Want what? to press charges
And you say no.

little red lighter,
May as well light the candles
Set the monastery scent free
To meditate on shoulders
That lock and look
For all the world like
A butcher’s block
Probably need another set
To fit all those knives