Honey Burn Soulful kids kick and scream, charmed within their adult bodies inhaling smoke-swell prayers in praise of the earth that they thought they knew privy to a house-shaped divinity. Opportunists getting by battled by a faded liquor, rising in the morning let down by what they were mourning bending every reason to exist. Savouring small grace grins crossed out every week, pinched either side by spires spindly stigmata, never seeing again an acumen amen to save face.
13
Hazel home siphoning the taste of my lips, ego gone varnished for the celestial arbiter arguing whether I should vanish drummed by sure-fire desire. Heartfelt retreat, hard felled by a charitable congregation, hymnal beats and ancient sounds waxed into ears. I’ll stand solemn fighting to be the one we hate. Cruel matchstick gold drip honey-burned belief. Pending whether I’m here slow slip queer leaked from the mouth that was an open door.
Anonymous
