Snipped Strings and a Long Journey Home

In the summer, when our cracked spines split like melons in the heat we reached toward the unattainable sun, unbearable dreams. You kissed me, hard, under the midnight moon like no regrets, Our dangling cigarettes tainted the air. Shivering smoke may have combined with your skin-scented cocoa until the lines and boundaries between love and insanity were blurred (by sweet silver vapor, by the weight of our snipped strings our cracked souls our silent songs). You kissed me, hard, like no regrets, like the craziness that consumes us all, like a long journey home.