Jet black, escape with the cut of the limb
Answer to a new god
Jokes in the parking lot
I'm tired of making excuses, coming up with a different fact
Organize places and shapes and faces and names
Get on the ground now, get in for a second time
Pump at the bottom, broken and trying to hold out
Hand half hearted, swell to double its size
I can't leave this place in my mind
open hearted field soaked with late summer sun no audience for this fervent laughter prickle green trees and cut fruit holding the back end of silence and stillness my back arches in a years old shirt sustenance that is only beginning
read your face like a bible your name in thick, black ink we can't keep doing this there's a haste in my words a broken fever I'm covering up like a child with their hands and their knees in the dirt
kneel on my knees let her stand over me this prize, but a consolation make a comment watch her laughter sting the air life is but the simplest of pleasures
soft, sweet yearning gentle tone I'm caught wanting to be alone mouth drawn open eyes wide shut learning can't just be enough take my time say all my prayers broken open, can't compare