My Ire's Egg Poem by Neil Kennovin

I shall call you Briggs, for I know not your name,
Nor do I care to learn it. You and your partner
Are sent to interrogate a former murderer,
Whose face has grown dim by the flame.

Your skin as dark as the melancholy sky of tonight,
You stare into your partner’s eyes, searching for his humanity.
The murderer keeps his secrets from him,
Although they are as close as his groin.
Your partner is lost in the chambers of his heart as
Fate drives him towards insanity.

Exploring the cavernous breaches of the murderer’s fortress,
You examine his forlorn eyes and surmise of his safe.
Gentle and cautious in conversation, the murderer
Tries your partner’s patience.

In the panic, I become you, Briggs, and like a doctor
The murderer makes my throat smile.
All at once I fade into the darkness of your skin
And reveal the red sea of life.
I do not know your true name, Briggs,
But the experience was certainly worthwhile.