In
Perpetuity
Words
preserve what is real
and when that is missing
the word persists
just as the blood precedes the slaughter
and still it remains
a hard coin at face value
How
many bandages to change
not a single signal in the insatiable market
with the present tense speaking in ellipses
and beauty
mutilated from one landmine to the next
What
vein of silence will open some day
with a song of obligation
for those forsaken ones
who kneel on the ground in sorrow
Desire
Ineffable
nakedness, temptations
red blossoms blooming
in the gardens of your body
Slaughterhouses
of eros, sick
with deaths unmourned
until they ascend
on their winged horses
Your
hair rustles in the wind
laughing on your shoulders
falling asleep against the Night’s throat
in the blackness of the starlit sky
and when that is missing
the word persists
just as the blood precedes the slaughter
and still it remains
a hard coin at face value
not a single signal in the insatiable market
with the present tense speaking in ellipses
and beauty
mutilated from one landmine to the next
with a song of obligation
for those forsaken ones
who kneel on the ground in sorrow
red blossoms blooming
in the gardens of your body
with deaths unmourned
until they ascend
on their winged horses
laughing on your shoulders
falling asleep against the Night’s throat
in the blackness of the starlit sky
where the needles dug in
and detail, that tenacious beast
barking at you
open windows onto absence
within itself
with hope fading in and out of your ears
consumes you with its fair grammar
as though you never learned when and how
leaves fall in silence
