Memory, the Annihilation in Darkness Haunts

Memory, the annihilation loop in darkness haunts… this night…a hammer old, gun barrel cold weight of a baby’s head, less a hair gripping death, tempered fire punching steam subtle, dangerous, good in a raucous romp popping rivets like teeth, swinging drunk love snatching glimpses, mid swing of faces drawn flush against the swaying light silence beating in slow agony across the stillness where striking, east and west spark and time rolls thick like reckless rain into the mouths of valleys drowning the sun droplets on a cool damp night Memory, the annihilation loop in darkness haunts… this night…(shh!) inside voice! blue compress, lips snatched shut pouting eyes blueberry wild tongue, smoke and honey held in sweet repose we walk in broken solitude trying not to decompose the glass beneath our step cracking delicate the art of tranquility veritable truth, gnarled and bent it is something to be nothing, is it not? (not nothing?) but isn’t that …something!? Memory, the annihilation loop in darkness haunts… this night…the dead sing our names into the book of dust canto de la Muerte where deep below the blackbird bower gust and gale mischief tower tears in scars our blood devour symphony made of silence… this night…I hate this place the edges the thin line between us calm water, languid moon through the Strait of Abacus ripple razor narrow, shaving time the morrow’s rage limbs tangled, we roll in black sea like a clutch of eggs on water floor, tumble into memory…