Furious leaping long jumps, courageous sinister sprints,
to the ballsy smell of bourbon oozing from Jesse’s breath.
A star struck individual as your breath runs rapidly
at the sight of his cocoa brown hand, and boney finger tips.
This aging chestnut stature of a man no one can resist,
who’s lived a life with a heart of gold that you could not miss.
Words left unsaid as conversation is imagined,
as fearful figure Jesse is scared of truths unseen. Was he like your father, a staggering
dark giant chasing you as he leaped across couches and coffee tables; with breath as harsh as Jack, racing to the line of hope you stumble as he beat you at the finish.