oneirogenesis

I broke the news of our eviction you said “before we leave, I want to steal something, a weighing scale, or a silver spoon - what will you take, if we’re leaving soon?” what will I take? I would be a thief of the sunset, reflected in a rose window or the oak tree newly in leaf I would take the burden of secrets in the basement corridors the code written in their cobwebs, never anymore to weave themselves around my searching fingers I would steal our closeness to the wild place where, in hopeless hunger I kissed the thief who taught me how to steal

everywhere, insect carcasses and ashes I leave them where they lie (let the dead bury their dead) the body of a bottle fly, a book of matches a pair of raven’s feet sticking out of the rose bed god’s eyes in crimson thread do you want to take a look at these bones? I filled the sockets in their skulls so you’ll never feel alone veil yourself in funeral black and meet me in the garden - we’ll play resurrection games I am Lazarus and the recitation of your name you are the breath of life and you are whispering at the graveyard gate "rise! in the darkness of the earth, no longer wait, but hear my voice and live again.

Chasing fire works, fire flies, these fucking lies through urban sprawl and graffiti scrawl, fingers locked, heart thumping in my throat like the bile I can't choke down. It tastes like Vaseline and ashes, a mouthful of proof of my cystic demise. The clumsy stumble roar, beasts with cherry-flavored foam leaking through their teeth, and how much more skin can be chewed from my neck? Skyscraper mazes and the pain-and-memory hazes I live and breathe like it'd literally kill me to let it go. Let it go. Time slips and slides, ice and lies, love-dipped fallacies that hide chrome and Vodka-bottle teeth. Survive for the fig