Birds, Hell & Rust
︎︎︎ Gülen Çelik
︎ May 8, 2025
He was like sugar,
rim on a glass.
Taking me from bar to bar
under his configuration.
His glistening face was unsculpted marble.
Tales of untold pity upheld him,
shoved forward to a combative drive.
Where is this man’s grand gear shift?
Rather, a ceremony of his malnourishment,
salivating at night, giving away.
So generous, I screamed out of joy.
Birds, his morning mockery.
Hell, bedside habit.
Rust, amorphous armor.
rim on a glass.
Taking me from bar to bar
under his configuration.
His glistening face was unsculpted marble.
Tales of untold pity upheld him,
shoved forward to a combative drive.
Where is this man’s grand gear shift?
Rather, a ceremony of his malnourishment,
salivating at night, giving away.
So generous, I screamed out of joy.
Birds, his morning mockery.
Hell, bedside habit.
Rust, amorphous armor.