Chain

I almost didn't believe him, when he first told me

It's smoky and translucent and difficult to see

And usually it's left slack, so it might not even be there

And the silver can blend against his pale white hair.

But occasionally I'll see the thin metal shine       

His shirt collar moves to reveal a red blistering line      

(He can't wear turtlenecks all the time)

Then the slack picks up, and he stumbles –

I'd like to catch him, but he doesn't fall.

He stands straight, gives me a smile, and mumbes,

"Forget I said anything about it at all."