Anarchy Of Flames

There were times when

you and I

would blow smoke rings

around the moon

and watch them circle back

to embrace us

like halos around our necks

There were times when

I would get so angry

at the world

and myself

that I would drape my feet

in cement shoes

and dive into your corneas

to let them wash away

everything

There were times when

your frown would break

the world

but you would repair the cracks

with your delicate hands

while singing a love song

for us

then I would pull you aside

to kiss you

deep as a grave

and you would smile

so the world would heal itself

looking more beautiful

than it ever did

There was a time when

your celestial body

lifted itself above mine

hurled at me in an anarchy of flames

and my body turned to ash

and the remains sailed in the wind

for a thousand years

before manipulating themselves

into letters

into words

into this poem

for you

Nostlagia Is A Cruel Joke

There were times

when we would drink from cyanide rivers

under the burning sky

We would even inhale the fumes

and look at the world through rainbow glass

Now it feels like the colors are broken

and I'm cradling them in my calloused hands

They are too sliced to feel the damp ghosts

of my former ethanol-brothers

and the poison has long left my system

I just want to drown myself one more night

with you

before the sin of the moon

swallows me whole