the places we've been tumble through us. a caustic consortium of outlaws and conspirators.
the purple bridges choke on the moon. as we arrange our artifacts. to the onerous consent of absent martyrs.
let the rain bleed through the wilted bandages on spoiling corpses. all our wishes wasted on the derelict promises of temporary beds.
the yellow wind stings as we continue to run. a shattered puzzle of faces desperate for names we can no longer give to them.
time slithers under her skin. a glorious thief.
the years press their fingers against the glass. strangers in familiar disguises.
the distance goes on. an infinite fever.
she keeps count. by small cuts and little drops of blood.
every color strains against love's dubious auditors.
still the truth insists. a relentless infection.
the only cure is to surrender to it.