in a frozen
frame you
or some version of you
burns the house
down just to handle
some re-framing
I explained
to myself
when we were
young
and some one else
turned up
their nose at your
treasure
stranded
on a dusty shelf
luxury in a remote
paradise
vacation
attenuated to
an anti-matter world
lived inside a shield
we shared
but like all cut flowers
collected and
then dried and
neglected
I suspect
it all went wrong
when time got shorter
energy and entropy
gathered themselves
close to you
and we diminished
like sea shells tossed
over rocks to make dust
that catches light
swirling in
the waves.
That dust becomes
my companion
my words
guts chugged up
like a swarm of bees
just a breeze laid over
with fortune
in days before days
rising up like a birdless sea
constant and winding
and winds howling
screaming
jesus saves.
cut cord language pinned
to the floor seagulls hated
through ages we burn and
carry off holidays
dazzling roses and perfume
that scorches like blood
when you look at it sideways
as all madmen should
when going though
that kind of phase
swallow and swoon
laugh at carriages
draped in diaphanous
fabric that shows
through to the moon
reflected off the sea surface
without explanation
hiding on the
ceilings of caves
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