"Our Weapons or What Have You"
always fading
into water
into moonlight into blackness
into dark voices and memories and dreams
flushed and buried ghosts
and wisps and hints and spectres pushing out against shores and walls
endlessly burning like bridges
like candles
like for you being born and being alive being dying
being dead lovers in windows
in beds and cafes
expressing their passions and lust
their wantings
similizing their love like a sunset like a flower like a battlefield
and like a flame
a million flowers for a million starry, starry
nights endlessly bleeding on the floor
on the tablecloth on the sidewalk in our hearts
stones thrown and breaking bones
children and animals running freely and
dancing with the wind
with angels
in the streets rivers and streams and creeks drinking
from all things soft and rocking infinitely
used
to describe to destroy to build
to immortalize words and paragraphs and
... pauses
exploited and embraced themes
and tones and
intimations pulsing together in riotous clumps and
tirelessly bending like willow trees like tools
like slaves.
