terror does
not knock
when the ground feels
like riptide
beneath
and the hand is
no longer steady
when the walls
don't
seem to meet
at right angles
anymore
when the
black
flashes dance
in the corners
at every turn
when you startle
at
three-thirty a.m.
drawing an alligator hiss of
breath
nightshirt
skimmed w/sweat
& even the third
cigarette
does not knock
the
terror
back down
brought here alone
you will pass
alone
& while sealed
within these two
you know that
nothing
else has filled
all the tossed back hours
but this
BACK