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Atmospheric Glass
Stricken man, breathless, pressed
against vast heights without relent.
The liars said this roof would bust,
but lungs were crushed - he idled.
Then above the muted clear,
a body set into veneer; surrounded by
emboldened sneers:
a taunting composition there.
His hardened head would meet the wall.
No blood was there to draw. Just flesh,
beneath hair, tearing away raw.
Opened from the top to leak, like
bottles from beneath the bar; his
thoughts were risen, loose, and piqued
by interest of his nebula, who
sat just out of reach.
