Now that you have flushed me from your veins and made your confession to the chapter of faults You are unencumbered by this shipwreck fever-wailing minstrel, vitals crushed You held me up as myth, down as flesh the simulacrum floundered I crumbled as rust A lithograph of Avalokita thousand armed and hopeless cradles all of our sorrow
The inspector at the factory, moving units, doesn't care if the contents of the can make us healthy, make us sick. We are banished from the convent limping through the gnostic desert We are misers snake-charming for stale bread for a house of clay and toothpicks, for clandestine titillation, every memory is sealed in concrete relegated to the darkest spaces, to the secret cove that sears us.
But don't stop to scrutinize the fire the flames are looping like a shuttle and our dignity's the fodder, and our dignity's defiled
When I reach out I'm devoted Not a cipher to be decoded I approached you without motive now I'm the villain that you've decloaked.
We are single dots: straggling dogs. We feel the same: muzzled and shocked. We share a meek castrated bark. It's a voice, hardly enough to hum our deluded lieder; while I cover my ears and quiver, underneath the seeded clouds, that contaminate our lungs, you're the poltergeist that rattles my dresser and I'm the widow that doesn't know better than to linger by your swollen grave, than to hold you in the light again.
There are 13,000 failed astronauts in every single county. They've traded Adventure pulps for company parking spots in the fire lane burying their hearts in the limestone a holy procession giving conversions They want to carry my burdens light years away. The offer's for both of us, foragers, wrecked and alone but there is no spark, curative clove, temple or touch to lift our armor.