things we lost in the fire

in summer days i walked away from you. and thought only of dried tears on my cheeks, of madness let loose dripping across my shoulders and i could barely take your weight.

so i left you with your own cross to bear, wounded, unwound, undying devotion to your starry eyes, cramp wars, and lust in the full moon. i knew in the end i'd take you home, carrying saints on my back, inside you, calamities breaking free from the dormancy you let rest for a while when you put it down, weak. no liberation left.

and that's the way i remember it (like so many other ways, i do) lost and alone cowardly in the way of mayflowers and ninas, pintas, santa-fucking-marias, truth is our only lighthouse now, but your across the mind universe and i am only waiting in the thought-fog for you to explode again. (no one explodes like you)

2003-04-03 | 12:33 p.m.
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