She had a broken jaw. I punched and pulled and paused.
I was wrong. The honey made me. I was alone. Eleven was the love.
Numbered by their raw red lines. Wise as blood and black.
Was the color she saw. Bitterly dark is chocolate by my hand's touch.
Jacks used to be. The game. The time. Alone. No hugs. No smiles.
I will ask for forgiveness and then one cup. Over a fire to burn.
The lost eye. Forever I fall as a child. Through the fog. Love.