(no subject)
you can carve your headstones and you can put me in the dirt
and while your shovel tucks me in I'll look at photographs of Earth
where there's a cornfield and a blue dress and a simulucrum of us
dancing through the dried stalks and the audience made of dust
dream hard or dream soft but you're going to wake up
the difference is that when you come to, you'll be in ash or be on rocks
and only one can ignite a phoenix that can fly 'round the Earth
upending the hourglass that was flipped at my birth
I wish I had an I.V. to rehydrate these bones
and I wish I had a hand to give so you wouldn't feel alone
but my touch is like Pompeii's oscillations; dessicated and outshone by the memory that torched it and left its last breath feeling like its first;
a reaching plant that was frightened, retreated back into the Earth
and while your shovel tucks me in I'll look at photographs of Earth
where there's a cornfield and a blue dress and a simulucrum of us
dancing through the dried stalks and the audience made of dust
dream hard or dream soft but you're going to wake up
the difference is that when you come to, you'll be in ash or be on rocks
and only one can ignite a phoenix that can fly 'round the Earth
upending the hourglass that was flipped at my birth
I wish I had an I.V. to rehydrate these bones
and I wish I had a hand to give so you wouldn't feel alone
but my touch is like Pompeii's oscillations; dessicated and outshone by the memory that torched it and left its last breath feeling like its first;
a reaching plant that was frightened, retreated back into the Earth