The furnace runs on souls,
Spirits burn and turn to ash
and leak out through the holes.

The stars are far away,
The sun is close to planet earth,
We know that we can't stay.

Light must be a street,
Lamps can burn like center camps,
And send us while they leak

to live our lives
on moving *****
and close our eyes
like disco *****.
Sparks and shimmering lights.

We cover our footsteps
with grapefruit and lye

forget me knots
anchor my wrists to rotted bedposts

there are purple streaks across your mirror

indecision couples with doubt in the dark and
you see me for the first time

(I wonder what I saw in you then)

lightening tangles through the trees
while your shadow engulfs the front porch

I can still feel your shoulder blades through the thin thread of your shirt

i am bare feet on the stairway landing, i am messy hair and high ceilings

you are a voice full of sleep and you are calling my name from the bedroom

I found out there was fire lingering beneath this skin,
but it isn't of desire and I don't want to begin
accepting death because a pressure expects breath because of flesh.
I need a cure that isn't time for expiration of the fresh.

For incessant insecure impressions,
For obscure convalescent depression.
For when the most unsure become expected to procure
From those defaulted most demure, the idolatry sense of pure(ity)

[Pure] (it evil answer idol along and so sure)
purity villains were right all along and so sure
maybe for eternity despite killing wrong I'm insecure.
'twas thought was sure
Now wrought hot fur-(y)
(Fur)[y motion] from the prime upon itself,
[Emotion]
To where the very notion of good health,
fuels firey devotion to destroy myself.

I found out there was fire lingering beneath this skin,
but it isn't of desire and I don't want to begin
accepting death because a pressure expects breath because of flesh.
I need a cure that isn't time for expiration of the fresh.

I'm where the very notion of good health,
fuels firey devotion to destroy myself.

(Exodus, xvii.15)

By whom was David taught
To aim the deadly blow,
When he Goliath fought,
And laid the Gittite low?
Nor sword nor spear the stripling took,
But chose a pebble from the brook.

'Twas Israel's God and King
Who sent him to the fight;
Who gave him strength to sling,
And skill to aim aright.
Ye feeble saints, your strength endures,
Because young David's God is yours.

Who order'd Gideon forth,
To storm the invaders' camp.
With arms of little worth,
A pitcher and a lamp?
The trumpets made his coming known
And all the host was overthrown.

Oh! I have seen the day,
When with a single word,
God helping me to say,
"My trust is in the Lord,"
My soul hath quell'd a thousand foes
Fearless of all that could oppose.

But unbelief, self-will,
Self-righteousness, and pride,
How often do they steal
My weapon from my side!
Yet David's Lord, and Gideon's friend,
Will help his servant to the end.