Literaryspill

~~SOMETIMES IT ONLY TASTES LIKE SUGAR~~

I hit the bottom of the glass

and its all warmth

and its all emptiness

and its all you

and its only

shame turned to

whiskey turned to

rum soaking

on bleeding lips.

You fed me

tawdry drinks

mixed

with cheap promises

and easy conversation.

Yesterday

I thought I tasted sugar.

Today

it tastes like bullshit.

tastes like you

~~When Cathedrals Crack~~

I’ve been stacking things up against each other

laying unstable steps on frail footings to reach the truth

I stifle the words and heavy voices and watch unanswered prayers

unravel into the night. Can science explain the beating of a frozen

heart and tears trapped in summer’s withering winds

stabbing the ground and parting the red sea and swirling the waters

where the earth is weakest?

How long can we talk or not talk about celestial promises

whispering like a firefly in the autumn night?

Is it enough to say that you never leave any doubts in my mind

and that I only know what I know because of the things you don’t say?

And if you know anything it’s that I overanalyzed everything in our space

and it grew into a moment that turned you into experience.

I have never known anything more beautiful

than the warmth, blush of the Sun,

incandescent against the pale blue sky,

like the soft flames of a candle,

I’ll graze my fingertips against its glowing edge,

and see the shadows of silhouettes rising

from their sleep

or perhaps, fondle the humidity in the air

as I forget,

that Stars can also burn.