he found the goddess
like so many do
in a desperate fall through foundation,
clutching to the bleak rim,
praying for context.

his last moment of wholeness
was spent with an upturned face
basking in the backlit rays
of her promise

        time passes
         in a rushed imitation of
         magic tricks and carnival rides

when candlelight flew
from velvetine fingers
he hid from her shadow
humbled and yoked

the neon grin of morning
found him
clutching her breath
      tucked inside the hollows
          sunken through every step
          there was nothing left
          of his body

but two glass eyes
caught forever staring
into her waxen smile

that never thought to melt
that only broke with smoke

      *tell your children:

      hope is a scar
      the fault, mistake
      obsession with beauty
      will roll you in ash
      (a ghost of his telling)
       and empty you’ll wake