words by dominic riccitello

pace of the hallway
eyes like rapid lightning
our stance
grip of the hand
sheeplike command
we wallowed
suckered our past
cry after cry
we tried
but the hatred filled
loose commands
and our eyes were wide
like tomorrow night
the eve and tears
two longing bears
who were soft and delicate
with a motion
of tender grass
we spurt with lightning
and killed under daylight