NIGHT CAKE

darkness warned her how the night
clothes itself with danger. but
she like a deaf fly
flew into the night.

from the web of darkness,
they crawled into her. ate her up
like a cake baked for the night.
her voice ran into streets but
help has gone to bed.

twisted
squeezed into loaves.
sliced into pieces.

the night has laid upon her a scar,
a story that murders the heart.

———————

MAKING A BOY MAN

aunty Caro said, love
is for boys. sex
for men.
for a boy to be a man. then
he must learn to play the game of men.

a boy is but a sheep. she, my shepherd.
in her room was a slaughter.

aunty said, the rules of the game
are:
rule one: lay on me.
rule two: run on me.
rule three:
Press them
Twist them.

my tongue rolled into a slippery slope
where words gain no balance,
“but
the games of men
are not meant for boys” I muttered

“I thought you were a man
now I know you are not” she said.