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Poetry Law of Attraction

The World Between the Words
At the bottom, they say
Kill kill kill kill.

At the top, they fill minds
With fantasies and plans and
Doubts and doubts and doubts and
Desire and lust and
Rage and rage and rage and
Shaking and trembling and
Cold and cold and cold
Until the only sure thing is the
Wine glass, crushed in a fist.
Shard-spiked flesh focuses the mind.
Blood-battered floor focuses the eyes.
Stem protrudes through the back of hand,
A crimson bone of crystal.
Platform flush with the palm,
A finite disk of positive charge sucked against skin,
Slave to the infinite law of attraction.
 
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