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This War of Mine (Part 3)
The Ravens fly into an
October sky
The kind that makes people sad
I want to slip into Arizona
and live through a war of wind and rock
the birds even have a shade of blue about them...
they pick at the dying grass and leaves
I could go. I could dream a little dream of you.
It's not fair, to love other women.
To head out one night into secrecy and hidden agendas.
you keep the mystery steady
like a real magic man
and I am fooled.
Sunday.
it ends here.
before the race of time.
my soul doesnt ring on
like a telephone that you
call everynight
it is a tool that
cuts right to the pulp
and every nerve ending sparkles and spits blood
a gallon or so.
enough to change a course or steer a ship
to sleep on, eyes so glazed
pockets of flesh turn purple
walk about in a moon trance
i left you in our bed
like that.
You seek something else.
and so, I crawl wearily over the stonewalls to
hand over my white ragged flag.
