yesterday we bloodied our minds
In the pursuit of crystalline love and happiness,
a balance, I know

the movement you speak of is dark,
but celestial, the moment
is at twilight.    we cut our irises
with glass fractals
full of color
      falling from the out turned palms
      of a much more vast fragility
      that once was the body unshattered.


we have been blind for millenniums

the elderly
believe we hide the moon from them at night --
they say, they can see our
transcendence of spirit even with the
transplanted steel they now have
for lookout posts,
        this frightens them,
          so candles are lit,
                antique
opaque prayers are uttered
        In frequencies

when we wake up, fingertips
crawl through graveyards of dead Gods
and redemption. this was redemption


Because our mind is a Fortress of light,
Those in the depths
climb
indigo mountains
with gnarled teeth,
         reapers.
                              down the mountain
                                   down the mountain.

gazing upwards, towards deities.  we
marvel at them because they believe if we exist,
anything is possible

        
here now, they call for you
lovely. such lovely names we thought were lost

yet, In birth we scream at
maturing generations
For allowing their aging souls of belief to
Open wide and swallow the new craze of doubt
In a strange house made of what is seen and not seen--

They look down at us,
Kiss our empty electric sockets, as
they hum lullabies
teaching small things to
hush
  hush
    hush.

What was said.?
My time here is dire,
One night it will be told
                The order of things,
When it's quiet
Sometimes knowledge is violent.

Silent.
Bodies of heavy

Left to slumber with their thoughts--It's mouth ripped off
Obey the taker, the giver of tanzanite crowns


assume not to keep it
A sharp knife at my hip, at your
Throat-- oh my

Morality has gone
Gone gone,

In the morning we plead
Forgiveness, fill our holed sacks with grain
for the winter and force upon our backs
a chest of liquor      wooded wine to sooth disease,
before attaching our hooded masks
to their bedpost

Leave without telling them why.

the mother's and fathers
Will keep gold in their pockets
and a noose around the next life they choose to live,

if we come back we will take heed
of each broken neck that failed to see
the compass of their bones

Because we were always looking down
when we preyed on Grace, waking
and dying--
Both found home inside the same second
our awareness was alive--

Terror in the north
Terror in the east
Terror in the south
Terror in the west,

we saw love In a lost world,
then doubted its
Existence.