My shadow and I,
keeping trysts under streetlamps,
meet, hold hands, diverge.
not your average mountain air
--smells a little dingy
--smells of
old, twisted heartland backpathwayroad.
in.
in.
get get in.
to the swing. rock to sleep
breathing poetry.
soft. sleep i, and
dream of inhalants
--poetry frees the smell of cellular days.
sing a solemn soft song
powdered-sugar your face
take a trip in the fifth dimension
and find another place
rock to sleep in the bat cave
rock to sleep in the waves
count the stars in the rubbish-heap
count the little star-graves
count another year gone by
and carve your name in ice
this year of life called twenty-one
will. not. come. twice.
Have you found the rainbow city?
I've found the space where it lay
for a night before it got up,
shook itself off,
and went out for a soda.
I've never met honey as black as you,
nor have I seen any thicker.
But I've had you on my tongue for ages,
tumbled you in the mix,
and there's no way return now.
There's no way to return.
i am the sacrificial child
laid out
on the altar of my undoing.
and though my father grieves,
no hand from heaven
will reach out
and stay the descending
knife.
crown o' gems | darkwaves+larkwings sky
jewel@gleeful.com
a seraph production