We were gladly unfound and nowhere-bound
On hot concrete kingdoms
Eyelashes laced with fragments of light
All pale and electric-pink spectrums
Our pockets full of loam
Knees red with Mercurochrome
Beetles mashed in our fists to iridescent paste
Like war paint to coat us brave and true
Wings had our feet,
And smiles, crooked— handsomely offbeat
Now we just look bored and vengeful
Idée fixe
Killers for kicks
No one warned us that we’d fail to write our wails as words
Overflowing from gutless-gaps
Un-omened haps
The fixed-betwixt-the-head-and-heart words
Soon deep-sixed with Seven Crown
We’re perpetually seeking a sunny place for the shady people we’ve become—
Somewhere pleasant to lie
Facedown
To remember that we were once very wide-awake and catching the light with our lashes
The only good trap to ever be set
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