OSC+MIC

at least she will be pretty
when she forgets her name
and her backbone dilutes
with the response to a crumbling
sense of wonder and the
sardonic sense of time that
will come when the truth shines-
this world is not divine, as
every perfect curve of your
sweet angel face, golden hair
the bright spots that are left

this world is a black, cratered moon
disguised as a blue planet so that
we can love it just enough to
get out of bed every morning with some
earnest ambition and love over the corn fields
and the dismal skylines and the traffic
and regard some semblance of faith and purity

at least you will be pretty so things
will come easier to you just keep
that fountain of youth spilling over
protect your shell as the insides begin to
turn over and bury themselves because
your two strong legs will carry you further
than you needed, with your withering heart
still bloody and red and beautiful.

and as you speak the darker spaces
sort of remove themselves and become
a shadow that decorates your face
this has in me in a spell where
every part of you is beautiful
only i've seen you from that side

pour over me
every memory that has no light
especially the ones that killed you

i see vividly, always in color
even when the night has fallen
& the sea is just as black as the sky
no tangible separation
an impermeable twosome
the infinite romance between air and water

I feel you all the way up to my throat
Because you've come and massacred
Every segment of my self has
Been touched and questioned

Where is that part of you that
 loves so hard it bleeds
Every vein ruptured and exposed
Like a river draining into the darkest valley
You become me because
Of that universal pull

Here I am naked, loving you
Where I am everything, not caring
Who ignited you?
who feeds the fire?