It’s an upside down world out there
With disabled people,bruised,
Sunk into selfish slumber.
And there are words inside ribcages
Dying caged animals.
She carries her shadow like a veil
With a trail of storms in the debris.
The words are gnawing at her
As they turn to powder.
She’s a pale ghost hunting people
Putting flowers into cracked vases
A figure going backwards
Away from the unbearable air outside
To the womb.
The skin still holds the memory of the touch
And the flesh still shivers.
Your fingerprints like tattoos
Burned in braille.
Your scent living in my lungs
not letting me breath.
The taste buds rippling in
waves of recognition
that people go through each other.
And ghosts are alive.
Years from now
We’ll think back
At the grobian wordlessness
In the midst of life.
A memoir of emotions
And a graveyard of dreams.
The grass turns yellow and
The bones return home
In noble modesty.
We fall fast and hard
Melted away like snow in spring…
It dawned on me
That people can’t live forever.
Why would loves?
We all stumble.
The walls of the room close around us,
And the bodies weep
Under microscopical breaks.
With every brush of the hair
Your name comes up
As poison is removed from a wound
And reason is dulled by slumber.
Time runs through the fingers
The miracle of every 61st second.
The obstinacy of blood
Returning to the carcass of the heart,
Though there’s nothing left
There are loves like candlelight –
Beacons for moth like creatures.
And there are loves like fires.-
Self consuming,spectacular loves
Of foreseeable death…