For your stitch mouth and button eyes
I write an apology
For the pale flowers in your smile
Which must bloom and die with me
I am sorry I drowned you in the river
To wash the corpse-dust from your skin
I am sorry I came from a world
Beyond the attic they trapped you in
He seeks a bayou witch
who can trade my soul
for three sunsets.
To her — he says:
I cannot run but I can walk much faster
Than raindrops can race down cathedral windows
Than wishes can grow under the banyan tree
Will you trade with me?
lost child of gloom and gold
dark child who snuffs out fate
shall suffer eternity.
mind child of things unseen
swallows past harmony.
— part child oldest of all restores what laws divide.
young love shrivels to tomb
by doom affection owns.
hanging child haunts on under
lay bare over death’s bones.
— wretched soul above below to weep its dying tiber.
— every child broken by trial must borne its own murder.
Time and space unidentifiable
Afloat midair—hands and feet
Reasons and instincts, a hazy distance
Stumbling awkwardly—a dull thud—all faults are revealed
On one ankle, a societal screw tightens
Calloused by sharp emotions, numbed on hardened skin
I, on show behind the glass case—but that isn’t me
All the truths became fiction, therefore I became a lie
Cake this mind of mine with makeup, don’t let the sadness smear