Its incandescence haunt me every night

And every street I walk into from school

Into the cold alleys of December

Beside the crowded stalls lost in consumed time

For when it touches a face

It ties it up to you

You who have guided me into the light

By bringing me into patches of darkness

And the noise of the crowd I seek to avoid

Break through me with every word you said

As you tried to apologize for everything you had done

But it was all noise to my silence.

A buzzing noise in the crowd of December.


But then it touches my face

And draws a line of salt and water in my cheek.


It is all that there is.

Your face, glittering in crowd of December,

Under the million streetlights where my eyes

Chose to draw the line.

For this prompt:

Tell us about the time you threw down the gauntlet and drew the proverbial line in the sand by giving someone an ultimatum. If you’ve never handed out an ultimatum but secretly wanted to, describe the scene and what you would say to put an end (one way or another) to an untenable situation.

Photographers, artists, poets: show us COMPLEX.

When I want to give someone an ultimatum, I wait for the right moment, and then I say it straight.

But I still have to get the right moment right.


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