AND

there are so many lines draw in
hands
that become fists
and there are so many
words
said that are twisted in beds
and there are so many
feet
bent by fashion
and so many
heads
turned from decision
and there are so many
days
spent like a grave 
and there are so many
mysteries
between thighs
and there are so many
saddened
by their own hand
and there are so many
gems
that find faces
and there are so many
loves
strung up on fences
and there are so many
hopes 
lost to the sleepless.
and there are so many
fingers
pointing from deep in pockets
and there are so many
birds
that love cages
and there are so many
beautiful stories
with tragic tellers
and there are so many
wrongful giants
housed in temples
and there are so many
loved ones
crying at pictures
and there are so many
arrows
shot at loved targets
and the are so many
eyes
closed to sun flowers
and there are so many
lips
closed to divert a stranger
and there are so many
coins
tossed at bleeding fountains
and there are so many
hearts
struck by the dying animal
and there are so many
eyes
that reflect my crucible
and there are so many
women
fucked like criminals
and there so may
ideas
killed by ritual
and there are so many
angles
who die in the crossfire
and there are so many
lies
that live in whisky bottles
and there are so many
so many
poem’s
written for the accolade.