Exquisite Corpse

Noble stranger Assemble these words For the occasion Building worlds With my persuasion Let's save them all With mirth and missiles And embrace the fall Deuces wild, a duality Every smile's a commodity Turn left Turn right The coast is blank My thoughts grow rank Forgive me for this suicidal explosion Yet I don't regret The commotion Seen in faces brightened by Cloudless skies Or in eyes Blinded by mushroom clouds That burned away our doubt No clout A gasmask and a nuclear sword But it's not a word Or a bullet It's the action that kills And the smoke that fills Our lungs Bulging through the spaces Between our rib rungs: The stepping stones to Hearts waiting to be Healed. From dried blood Long congealed Picked off Like the scabs that sealed Summers wounds Gathered together And reaped from harvest boons Glimmering Underneath the convalescent moons Struggling With the twisted fate They've to endure... But the crowd stands Demure.

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Written by

mariya-timkovsky

Russian

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