the projector whirs
a soft hum
while the film spins
into oblivion
a moment too soon
as the blade is thrust
into the blooming
heart of the moon
meanwhile, it’s rock candy
hard edges with a crystalline
white-ass man proclaiming:
“the miracles of old, you know
they don’t happen anymore”
the crusty man &
a crowd of dim eyes
cry ten thousand tears
into the dying light
of hades flames
& the glamour of
gabriel’s smile
heaven & hell
intertwined like
sex on the shoreline
all dark
all light
split the bone
& make a wish
my limited sight
erased with a
silver kiss