there's so much dust in me,
dusk, and the rust,
lust and the dusk in me,
to set me alight, on fire-

so much smoke and
cold and loneliness,
the seething emptiness,
and the hollow mornings;
for the sun to rise-

the hurt in me,
always hurting me-

the words in me,
never in the right sequence
or picture;

the elegance to be,
to be, or not-
a million years of
evolution and scriptures;

mixture of chaos,
and visitors;
with their pain,
with their home,

with their bombs,
and with their gones

bones and skeletons,
sharks and teeth;

seeds and forests,
just ready to burn;
to set me alight, on fire.