A violent cacophony

Screamed from their

Son reaching towers

Falling to attentive blades below

Cutting the frequency with which he diminished her

A foreshortened life


To accommodate the appearance of guests

Who’d never guess

They were anything but happy

Once you cross the bridge between here and never mind

There’s no going back without help from pixies and Jesus, pirates

Where hollow hearts perch on stolen lips

Drowning in political ramparts and relentless, resentful self pity

The perpetual lie you tell yourself

That love might abandon all self-respect or reason in one manipulative kiss

The sawdust of insatiable talons

Clings to impermanent branches

The rancor of pride and fear

Become the anchor

Of crow


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