Torso Lamentation
I wore all black from dawn to midnight on
The day you left in exile. As if some
Male widow, or goon abandoned by Don
And mob, I stumbled on meanings of numb
Unknown before. I wore a coma dark
As an obsidian lid on a closed
Coffin of a Mafia patriarch
After sprays and sprays of bullets deposed
Him. Polished leather shoes encased the black
Socks underneath black trousers; then beneath
Them loose underpants as limp as their slack
Contents. My leather jacket was the sheath
Of tight manliness around the duet
Of shirt and sweater—and their blacker sweat.