THE MORNING AFTER

He wakes with eyes still closed

& his screaming still muffled.

On the white padded floor

with his drops of blood like

some artist's random paint specks.

Someone looking at this moment

might think it artistic...

Sadistic is the word.

Face down -

Bare chested -

Work pants pulled down around his ankles.

His work boots are grunge & metal & worth every penny.

His ass is tempting... But it screams louder than he does;

His ass remembers before he can recall all that went down.

The worst morning of his working class life...

The morning he reached shaking fingers for the cardinal stained knife...

The morning before he would wake in that place...

The morning before he would find love in that face...

The face of another man unlike any other...

The face of tomorrow -

Those Eyes -

That Brother?

First man face to kiss him since child became man -

This nightmare will end -

Tomorrow begin.