literature

six thoughts about last night.

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Literature Text

i.
deep blue violets
curl their tongues 
through phone lines.
electric currents are no
decoy for a lover,
but they press themselves
dry onto their paper
and rinse their eyes bloodshot
on the scrape of a night glow.

ii.
their fat hearts 
drip the hours,
candle wax.
tiny flames light
like city lamps spanning
so far into the distance
that they blur
into the morning's tailspin.

when I exhale the flame's
dire ghost,
my eyelids departing their hills
awaken suns opposite the earth.

iii.
lipstick on text
is only color engulfing
speech.

it's a magic show
and we all go home 
disillusioned.

iv.
I wonder
if he'll become
swallowed by white noise
while I sleep.

my greatest fear is
the unopened letter,
the funeral beneath the sea
with the coffin covered in signatures
whose handwriting I can't decipher.

v.
sometimes every mile
kisses me goodnight
as if my bed is an altar
at which they lay their blessings.

sometimes it feels real
enough that I thank god
before I fall asleep.

vi.
even sunlight,
great mother of life,
can peel the skin from my bones.

love,
storm that it is,
is better off 
raging in a bottle.
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