Brutes Shine Knives
Brutes shine knives in hallways sleeping out of corners of heart-beats racing the fear of
death is a shadow with pale eyes darkness is silence who are you to judge whistling in
dimly lit alleyways stray cats smash trash-cans your breath leaps into the morning when
all is too quiet wooden doors pause gleaming numbers brass tarnished faith hangs by a
Copyright © Alex Roth | Year Posted 2014
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