Keepers

Keeper

I wake to the wee hours
as much as that sun races
I am lighting tea candles
Before she shoots that first light
straight from the hip
in a golden haze of defeat.

I am already here
Half way through the story
and I’d care to have no witness
on the day I finally give to glory

This mild winter keeps me captive.
She dangles trinkets by a frayed thread
and a dagger pressed to the jugular;
sometimes I dare not breathe.
But find comfort in the placement of objects
because I’ve been taught to trust only order
Order is mother and order is father.
I fear not the blade
But part of my soul leaving forever

Cool and contained
.....by a titanium keeper
I’d rather my life
be pressed between razors
than miss this sunrise
and owe undue favors.