Whole

p1f1

every brick is a reminder
of how hard life can be

reaching from the grit and filth
of this mean city's streets

for the faintest hint of some bitter blue heaven.

p1f2

if it were not for shadows
perhaps the sunlight
would show me truth
in the amber of my scotch

p1f3

the sound of icecubes
is not a bell

i am not an angel
there's no redemption  here.

 p2f1

on her lips
on her mind
in her heart

p2f2 

there is no kiss
there is no thought
she has no heart

p2f3 

she sips her beer
like communion wine