words by dominic riccitello

i follow the grooves of his body
hollow of his chest
where his heart used to reminisce
we exist on our planes
at a difference pace than what was to be
we became to transcend 
but ended in pure hell
to overextend but to touch ourselves
i said to him
you walk before the night
with shadows ever tight
a grip with a stance
a hidden man
who sees what’s in front
rather than within
it takes two to become
but it takes one to walk
i held his hand
but he held his grip
it takes two to become
a man to realize
broken hidden cries
in the eyes of what’s standing
in front of him