Folding Glass

polished scars shine against the grey of the edge. the long drop sneers and beckons. a hyena swimming in tears.  waiting in folds. arriving in creases. just like the way time elapses when you're lost.

reversing turns and failing orbits. chase the strings on distant stars. brightly lit kites. long dead. brave enough to still burn for us.

the naked snakes still wander the garden. peddling their temptations in a perfect geometry. the steps still tremble with the choke of the world. a beautfil disease eager to become us.

her red words bleed into void. screams without a sound. the darkness presses down hard. a growing weight. on a rotting stairway. the choke of gravity whispers its empty song.

the hollow sky. the seldom rain. do their work. to extract years from minutes. the pleated doll. the anxious stranger. a frail epiphany of choices. more wrist than razor blade.

the ugly voices. the simple scrapes. the face of god still reflected. In all the broken mirrors.