PULLED BLACK

PULLED BLACK

I am pulled black to travels of turns wrong;
where mistakes still run marathons
down dirt roads, long after I am gone.

I am pulled black to strugglings in pits of tongues tied
as tar bubbles they swell, stretch, thin, and burst
their years of pitchy rise; popping in releases
around my head, these pitchy flies.

I am pulled black to nightfall linger
and organ key tappings by a single boney finger;
there venturing and sightless before,
I come upon my wilting, more of, and more.

I am pulled black to phosphorous swims,
coachings by sulfur on climbs directed;
dives from that height, into water thin.

I am pulled black where light remains eclipsed
Before, it sits, presiding over horizons of lips razor thin
as executioners rejoice under glass and massage of violin.

Puppet's to dance
when...looking back...