afraid to be made, are you?

even you wouldn't be afraid to kill

no one would ;

if there were no law at will.



the issue is

getting you to admit it
after wake

however ; you remained submerged

quicksand lace and chain

trying on shoes that do not fit.



a wind changing

frozen in place to consider

that grace ; that flows

you imagine, from wounded satisfaction

words with cool scythe's 

blow to the heart -

beats faster and faster ;

therefore, icicles melt 

before you know what they're for ...
slipping names into files ; stretched at the seams
frayed at all corners

                      afraid to kill

    afraid to be made.