Blue Echoes

colors in the void. swell the sparks. fire makes its maps across desolate terrain. anxious flowers in a garden of darkness.

power solves for y. intent resolves to x. the snow like a million tiny fortune tellers predicts we will be cold. lost in a merciless series of selves. more intimate with irony that we would care to know. definedby callous storms that remind us our humanity. judged by swelling oceans that insist we are too close.

numbers are stern. scissors with a purchase on paper. jagged ribbons at the base of the volcano. wear the ash. bathe in the lava. embrace disaster on their own terms.

the world undulates. swayed by the rage of the winds.thick with soldiers. 
a crude tourniquet racing to tie off immeasurable wounds.

lucky liars sup on their instincts. beautiful ends finish the sun. in choked pistols and hollow ammo. the hours stumble onward. in their defiant vertigo. carrying buckets full of darknesss into places where there used to be homes.

deadpans and serial surgeons. the paradox of thought. as skin makes its inevitable trespasses. easy to forgive. hard to understnad. broken limbs sweep the ground to the rush of traffic. blind matadors fucking the horns of the bull. No injuries. Just decisions. On how much to bleed.