Look at me your bittersweet memory tied up
in knots, wheeled to an early grave buried 12 feet
smoked naked to the early morning.
Awake just like your butterfly cracker color shake.
Split jaded kisses.
Ashes corrupted fire.
Passion sweet wind's departure.
Hold on to the steal and
waltz to the thunder's sky.
Dust a light feather breezed through
the room.
Stoned for 9:00 weather.
Cold fingers sweet enough
to puff grandma's scarf on
the 4:00 news.
Decaying body returns from the
grave looking for revenge and
a summer night's rage.
Ghosts drinking tea their soul
rifting the stage.
A maze of bones.
Victims for the early pain.
A dead disease
broken and distorted spread
to be free lungs tied to breath.
Fleeting, weeping, forgiving.
Empty, alone, sleeping.
Delicate midnight peeping two
eyes torn between life but no
point to pull the ache the spirit
doesn't lie.
1 inch tree willow praying
there is a line but divide your
hairs and nestle toes, a broken
head.
Rest, the puzzle is shifting red.
Piece together the change of sadness.
Death is a dance.
Ride the wind.
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