Storm Crow

Glossy like the surface of a defunct record
Hair falling on skin warm as apricots
(When shops sold apricots, when
Apricots were not an impossible dream)

Stretching, body cracking like a whip in the wind
Power of black arrogance
Hiding hurt boy-child
Tentatively knocking on the walls of his prison

Darkness comes and with it coupling
Night-sharp thrusts to forget the pain
Of soft remembered caresses
Of fingers fallen to dust

Where is the end for you?
Samuri unable to shrug off the self
Anger given form to rail against the elements
Boy wearing the too-big boots of his father.