as she walked slowly down the middle of the night road she tears off pieces of herself and scatters them face-up on the cool pavement they stare up at the spinning stars grinning
she mutters the song with a small rough broken english voice guttural it echoes softly off the closed storefronts and sounds like Christmas if ya think about it her reflection swings slow through the motions each pane of glass tinted with the tidal forces of tears and rumors each day has seen it much discussed tread like jackboot in the fragile hall
like a bird in flight you can see in slow motion the beauty of its flight youΒ Β can sense the brilliance of its craftsmanship somewhere its creator is laughing himself sick
she reaches an impasse and turns casting pieces like hemlock prizes into eating the parts of the night she can no longer stand so the silence dissapears and the warm space between dark and light becomes cold once again versions of herself scatter to shopping mall parking lots all over the world and all the carts are taken down like disassembled dreams like laughter halved like a smile too close to tears brave knights fallen