Sad Labels:
sad poetry
no beautiful lies to coddle. nor torn seams to mend.
the world is undone in too many places.
we are consumed by the distance. patient soldiers with all our bullets on the floor.
we are trapped. all the exits blocked.
blood comes and goes. all temporary windows in permanent prisons.
dolls with faces made of wonder. leaving their claws in tender stones.
the taste of god befouling our lips.
in the relentless trickle of broken skin.
no fiendish pleasures to absolve. nor stagnant puzzles of flesh to solve.
just primates gazing into the mirror of heaven.
vainly unaware of their own reflection.