"My son, my executioner,
I take you in my arms,
Quiet and small and just astir,
And whom my body warms."
-Donald Hall
you execute me daily
with a smile that sizzles, then melts
the skin from a thousand and one pelts
it is a smile that could rekindle peace
in the smoldering heart of the middle east
there is hope sending us updates in that smile
like the kind of embedded reporter
whom you would want to invite
to a feast.
you execute me nightly
with a frown that pouts, then evaporates
the luster from a thousand and one first dates
a frown that could kickstart animosity
between the northern and southern states
there is disappointment texting us in that frown
like the kind of hapless commuter
to whom
no person relates.
you execute me
with your cool duality,
the simplest expressions made complex
as our two hearts mingle, and wonder
what might be coming up
next.
