7 may 2012
Pendulum
All of the phonies are
licking your flesh away
but you find no reason
to tell them a thing these days.
nothing will kill you
but I can’t believe you think
nothing will hurt you either.
It doesn’t surprise me anymore.
That icy bruise,
wrapped repeatedly with clay and powder,
refusing to budge, stubborn. It thickly veils
the blackness from me but I forget the joys of
pretending. Each string is slowly plucked until
a form of glorious resonance is reached.
Yes, a resonance of hatred and
filth that blocks all else and speaks in red words.
And it winds, backward and forward.
Like a pendulum of blades,
slashing away into the air,
moving closer with every second
Until
metal meets skin
and the crescendo of our sonata
sprouts out hawks, light
and the elusive stream of
white rivers.