Sink Teeth Here

Besieged by the windows and eyes.
The same ones that serve me the daybreak, over and over again.
Each morning, the god-awful dog at the gate.
Each morning, that petrol station and the card
With a busted magnet stripe or whatever it is that you call that thing in English.

The spoils of a dream gone awry.
White teeth and howling.
Watch close enough, if you dare.
Maybe destiny reads in it's eyes.
Maybe our higher deities know why it never bites, though it well could.
With nothing to decode, nothing to fear.
Cocooned in discipline, until sun-down.

Come evening.
Come the daybreak after.
I want to read destiny in honest eyes.
Cocooned in discipline, until sun-down and the morning after,
the one closing its jaws around what is soft on the outside and crispy on the inside.