©2014 Mandible|Photography
©2014 Mandible|Photography

There is nothing in the darkness
But smoke and shadows
Flickering off the old rooftops of
Eerie broken homes
Shattered windows the broken teeth
In wooden clapboard faces
Rotting under the cruel hands
Of rain and wind and snow and sun
Bearing down like strong words
Whispers in a crate
Hidden in the attic
Your eyes are reflecting their woe.

But woe is such a small link
To such a huge world,
Large hearts with holes like
Our words are your words
Hidden in your chest, your hands
Clear as blue sky
But rocky as the shore at sunset.

Tides meet in the currents
Crest over one another
Like bodies in the moonlight
In the shadows they lurk outside the reach of the lamplight from
Blinking with haughty judgement
Behind the long grass
That sways in a turquoise breeze.

We cannot escape the lies
In our arms
Errant as trees in a storm
But we can apologize
For their razor edges
And hope our sorries will
Heal those wounds.

The smell of liquor
And cries for help
Perforate the air
Like the old stories
Our grandparents told us
About surviving through wars
And we remember their pain
Like sand remembers
Being a mountain
Memories buried in ancestry.

Our chests carry lead-bound
With fire and copper eyes
Stitched into our bones
Old runes for new love.

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