My Prisoner

My prisoner I trusted not to bend
Didn’t wince or cry
And, following, I bludgeoned him the more
Bloody head unbowed
Hour to day to week, and week to month, and month to year
Alive in leaves
Salt aboil in clouds behind your eyes, between your ears
Around your knees
My prisoner I trusted not to bend
Didn’t wince or cry
Addled in the black, the air is a glove, the time is a grip
The light is a lung
Year to month to week, and week to day, and day to hour
And all redone
My prisoner I trusted not to bend
Didn’t wince or cry
And, following, I bludgeoned him the more
Dusking covered me