kiss him before it’s too late
his minds racing like Virgil Hilt,
bouncing that ball off the wall.
It’s a matter of time but
he doesn’t count the days.
they bleed together from
the sweat of labor. callouses,
growing in shape and numbers will too,
day after day, until his hands
are those of a mason.
the earth grows larger in his mind and
it’s always spinning. He tries
counting stars but she’s running
out of time. Her lips taste like honey,
her love is gold.
Chris Madsen is a former Scout Sniper and US Army Veteran. You can find more of his writing here.
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