Fire is the marriage of two
illuminations, one burning without
And the other consuming
one from within
A set of suns hazarding truth
burning men down to the root
That’s what this poem is about
♄
It’s in my heart, like a stain
at the break, past your flame
Wailing hazardous praises
offered up to lift us like Lazarus
Echoes of a condemned name
preaching, creeping, speaking
Of a need to be entertained
♃
There, in its shadow, struts
what we’d buried, opened but
Closing in on us, unashamed
to resurrect and relive its pain
Sweetest death naturally selected
to paint circumstance with what
Devolution taught us was enough
♂
Crawling red earth as if trained
we track our breath across terrain
Unmentionable, defaming with kisses
the shame laid like foil under tendrils
Of a prophet’s brain, spine sprayed
onto the back lot, backlit thoughts laid
Like rawest shock, dotting eyes with wept thoughts
☉
Like the death of a shot, opportunity was
a test screening us, ambitionless
Whispers kicking to the curb our way
a breath leaking its silence as if to say
We didn’t get it, but we’d still have to part; it’s
the line drawn to separate us
Fate knocking at this stage door’s lips
♀
Opening wide, can your mind take in
a stiff drink of reality like a dick sent
In common time to plummet its thrusts
complementing with abandon the direction of
Better judgment uninhibitedly burying
its face in a sodden veil, playing
To the camera its pandering of our sentiment?
☿
I didn’t think so; true romance puts
up with no uncertain premise
It isn’t rockets, it’s not science, prohibiting
predestined performance; it’s when
You extinguish your lighting that hurts
our flourish, as if from above
Angels themselves can’t distinguish lust from love
☾
Nothing dies but something mourns
grief and gravity, taking turns, turn
Inward to perform, taking form, turning into
coward menaces, mentioning to
Unmemorable audiences, a living learned
from exploiting what our twin flames burned
Illuminating lies until our investment returns.
