my mouth is a genuine, hollow spread
of an apocalyptic obsession.
that yellow thing in a sky reminds me of daisies,
and everything that isn't permanent.
if it goes down, i'm going down with it.
uniformity is path of broken arms and twisted ankles and
i've honored my emotions for the last time.
every other touch, every **** has been corrupted.

my lungs are aching from the smoke
you bore this morning.
i am the glowing, shining thing in the sky,

waiting for that fallen ray of light.