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the pure kingdom
Folder:
Poetry for the never ending visions of the blue womb
tattooed maps in the dim light of a naked moon
your skin crawls and seven days counts backwards
no more weak muscles
no more masks of your mother
you are a postcard vomiting time
your a hospital sweating death
i waited on my knees
i watched you die twice
you swore i heard it right
on those highways of nothing
you sang sweet little god, on that harbor of impossible reality
the only blade that ever caught me blushing
each day i buried you
we grew old and cried like hungry dogs
drawing stars on my arms
writing your book of the cars that implode down hallways
of the beautiful wife you kiss and can taste of your lips
the sinister men who do terrible things on rooftops
dreaming of the pure kingdom
