Fight Me

Fight me
I want to fight back
Rush over me like uncorked air
No message in the bottle
But a rusted to punch to the heart
The pungent uppercut of attics and youth
Spill the milky jaw of age all over your calendar floor
Cry the crusted smile off your cold face
Cleanse the floor, twist it with your tongue
Splinter me (your tears are daggers)

Fight me
I want to fight back