Solicube

there is an insignificance
to its
particular hue
the shading on the edges
lacks definition
light drips reluctantly
through afterthoughts of holes
poked by the pencil lead
of a giant's pencil's head
that air might flow
stale and bitter
into, of course, this lonesome cell
and i
out through those tiny holes
peer cautious with contention
then back to pacing end to end
from wall to wall of dim-lit cube
my feet begrudging every move
to slide more than step
so as not to wear false airs
of naught but suffocation
or any sort of dry determination
painting pictures on the cardboard walls
with blood and dust and contraband hopefulness
portraits of a faint, forgotten smile
that appears to me in dreams
on the rarest of occasions where sleep agrees
to enter the hovel of a lowly dreamer
and i hold the hand once again
before it grows claws
and kiss the mouth once again
before they grow fangs
and talk of love once again
before i let it down
and it led me down here