hearty mountain
I fall—
Like a dark horse you’re already in me.
You’re the ghost, I eat ghosts.
I wanted to eat you for breakfast,
But we couldn’t swim beyond the melted lake.
Sourness already sprung into once gilded hall of opportune yesteryear.
Rumination is pity with a dark dot on its head.
Summer had a hard time letting go of us--
But we ran away,
Our hands legends to the critters of the Atlantic.
Divided in place of multiplication.
I pulled
You pushed.
And summer got caught in the middle,
Did not know which way to turn—
Frantic.
Rain sprinkled seeds of doubt.
Clarity is compassion with its sleeves rolled up.
The heart on my sleeve became a knife.
Vomit fell out where words once were from tongues—
As we fought to lap it back up.
We walk through the fire to burn each other,
Yearning for our flesh to douse the flame.
Perfection is a made up word,
A never ending game for us dreamers with tired wings.
And will the dream find us again? Will we get lost in it?
Or will we climb out the betterman—
With nails as sharp as needles and the autumn leaves glued against our skin?
wooden moon
raw gulch
civic ridge
sullen granite
junior patio