take away the air. & you will see the cliff beneath your feet. the horizon you stare at. take away the air. & you will see your breath. the horizon you stare at. will be your death.
neither your lost sirens nor time which always happens yesterday can climax with winter. of amnesia. when the signs of yesterday become a beacon. hereafter are. bullets of the devil's cage. that ordinary storm born pit which learns to eat by starting at the molten center.
the esophagus. like the entropy of leaves. like a flower names all suicides. & the catatonic pulse of all of our tomorrows. I steal the feeling eyes as you are jealous of the way they organize around me and I take away the air.
the pit would name our priorities after Revelation. they saw the script & time became a wire. a string. a puppet who had lost a hand & slumps in a box of forgotten things. it was the earth they. we called it mother. & opportunities to eat grow shrinking from our gluttony.
it was a sense of g0d they say, a song forever after. mythic checks blanked at the erasure of a slate. mythic threats encircle met. & my light is bouncing off these walls. I empathize with shapes keep the g0ds in their processional dream. for whatever they were. they were also human. human. they were all so human & n0w. whatever they are. they are also human.
a song became my hand
sirens by yesterday
g0d off climax
organize & time
became our beacon
bullets in their checks
keep your lost sirens will see
amnesia is when we pit
for always box away
empathize & a pulse
flower time
neither jealous
in their shapes
slumping devil's pulse
like the erasure
will see the cliff
for whatever names us
next
will be our
answer
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