Each Night I Lie Down and I Dance with Death

Each night I lie down and I dance with death

His steps will shift

From the keys to my car

Tempting

Close

To the nylon rope

Hung from the ceiling

Fate’s red string

And occasionally

Rarely

I lean in

If only for a moment

In the lustful search permeating through repulsive auras

In the smell of rot lingering harshly

In the breath

In darkness

Incompetence

My words lie in stacks

Not in pages or partners or poems

But in the penitence, the silence between leaps of faith

And leaps of certain demise

Each night I lie down and I dance with death

With the danger that lies in missing movements

And stepping beyond apprehensions