an american storm,
brewed and steeped,
in cold lake water,
and graveyard dirt,
a star spangled robe,
a mindless verb.
is this? what it should feel like?
i wouldn't know. i wouldn't care.
i wouldn't know how to feel,
about this new world,
about this new church filled with roses,
flower pulp where my brain is,
garlands where my veins are,
silverware where my heart is.
have i found a yellow heaven,
filled to the brim with sunlight,
and moonlight, in a glass jar,
preserved forever.
pressured my black eyes into diamonds, worshipping midas into the dead of the night
(what if i touched the sun? will it fall from its pedestal. into a solid sphere of gold?)
(what if i stabbed the ocean, in its gooey blue heart, with a shard of the night?)
(what if i,
decided to,
save you instead?)
