Ancient Torture Poem by R.Benjamin Abate

Tears have fallen on this page
For you-
Because I don't think 
I'll be able to keep
You-

Little bottles of wine
Shatter along the street-
Her hands running 
Against my skin
Like the wind-
Hairs on my arm
Stand up-


Chill naive delinquent 
Burn the incense again
Carry these praises to heaven 

When she passes by 
Out of the blue
Don't cry 
For it happened 
& A man-a-go Happier 
& A man-a-go Luckier
Than a man who
Had never had her 
Before-