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.
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