Lion Bones

Gloomy transit river evening,

blue ineffable bastard distance.

Negotiate the subway under

cool violets, glass, and water.

 

Takes a fool to stay asleep

within a house on fire.

Beams crackle, collapse, convert

vicious tendril smoke

into nice, nice dreams.

Of oxygen

and autumn leaves.

 

Purple iris lungs

in the body of the garden.

Wax flowers umbrella out

into the lavender wind.

Goodnight, sweet dreams, I love you.

 

Takes courage to feel at peace

flying through space restrained

by haunted love and gravity.

Either we gesture toward moon travel

to witness the musical whoosh of time

or to cold suspension

and the breaking of your bold little lion bones.

 

Desire is a lake at sea

No salt, a freshwater country.

To cease pendulum swing,

drink deep.

 

Feeling snowed in behind my eyes,

the still frozen lake we imagine

strong enough to waltz on.

You break through ice.

I expect a splash,

not your voice fading, fading. 

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