Watching smoke curl in the sky
A simmer reflection, a residue of death stealing life
The scent of sweet burning arrives
Between breaths misting predawn light

A womb collects dead children
We hear them shrink and shiver
Their limbs atrophied, their eyes wide

Every kiss is wildfire
Every yearning is weathered
Like the shedding paint on the boards outside
That needed a touchup, a lifetime ago

Every touch is parched
Every trust is dystopian
The flesh departs from neuronal collections
Untraceable to the heart inside

No daughters, no sons
No lovers, no love
No affection, connection; truth or simple trust
No daughters, no sons
No lovers, no love
No future
No hope