A flaw in the crystal spire
Of our deeply entwined hearts,
Much like the flaws of corundum,
Alights a ruby's fire.

There's twenty five million people in the city tonight
They each breathe fire, like flames they ignite
They're a city of saints, they're monsters, they're warriors born to fight
Although diverse, their hearts beat in time to the city of lights

Give me the keys to your heart and let me ignite you.

Who's gonna drive you home tonight?

What was once green
finds grace
in falling
finally
to sleep some day
beneath winter
snow storms on mute
through the anonymous eyes
of neighborhood
windows
to dream
in degrees of spring
of blooms
waiting to ignite
inside of her

And I wait for her
ashamed
of my mortality.

Sometimes poverty unites not nations
but merely two people//
Intoxicants when overused break families as waves break on the shore//
Their drug now becomes their love//
And you are equivalent to nothing in their perceived reality//
It either makes the users surrounding guests mature profound strong souls
As strong as the Pedi army stood against the British and Boer to protect their land//
Or it causes them to transfer to their own twisted but illusionistic universe where all they see is darkness and despondency//

And then one day//
The money begins to run out
and so do the people//
But rarely, oh so rarely some humans make the decision to stay and continue the journey//
Where the road may potentially split into two//
recovery or relapse//

Sometimes poverty unites not nations
but merely two people//

The money has begun to exhale into the earths atmosphere
just as a stoner exhales his poisonous vapour into our airspace//
Some stay behind to help the corrupt mortal//

No money equals no substances//
No ******* or cat or cannabis or crack or codeine//
No drugs//

Then//

Two beings begin to ignite each other's fires
they learn the things they didn't know for the what felt like a million and seventy years//
They begin to discover how the one mispronounces words
and how certain songs cause ones soul to sway as the bass drops
or how ones hair whirls as the wind rushes through it
or how he can see the depths of the her soul through the eyes
and when she stares at the moon
her beauty is illuminated by the magical glow//

And then one day//
The money starts returning//
Creepily and discretely
the evil money
the tragedious money//
Like an evil monster emerging from hell
Where its dark and *****//

The money blows out the fire they have ignited
and slowly lures the user back//
The bond is now broken//

Sometimes poverty unites not nations
but merely two people//

I was marching down the crowded avenue
When I realized my hair was covered in kerosene.

Eyes flash; memories appear.
Bitter lips and kisses just covered in lies.
I was as stainless as the flowers in my hair;
The ones you picked from the garden.
I was as passionate as the ocean;
Always coming back to kiss the shore.
A sweet love, a love as wonderful and
As vibrant as the floral perfume around my neck.
The same one that gave me a rash.

Once we held flashlights, escaping into
The dark and hollow night alone.
Two hearts ignited on fire.
But flashlights always run out of battery,
Right?
I breathe in the salty ocean air.
I detect traces of you.
A ratted baseball glove.
Faded mint soap.
Stale potato chips; always crushed.

Nights of March play over and over;
Leaving and leaving and lying.
You talk of
Nightmares of dead flowers, wasted love.
Dissolving all bonds of emotion.
All I can see are flames.

You held the knife,
But I was destined to burn.
I was holding the matches all along.