Jul
11
2017
i made you my art, and then I remembered
i once
built a moon
on a red wall of chapter
singing verse and pressing mortar
into cracks and desperation
all scrabble fingered
and blister burned
pasting love and scraps of
survival
over lies and offered
fiction
all the while pretty singing
this is the light
we eat by
this is the light
i worship at night
this is the light
i fly to
burning wing and hemmed
betrayals
my own false idol
swinging from a string
in the blackest corner
of orion’s night
.
.
.