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inscription
At some point in the night, I got suspended in the tightening lids of your eyes,
And couldn’t let them come down on me.
The pride, the blood flowing behind the eyes, the desire
To be there, uncontested in your gaze, yet subdued
By the possibility that we might lose me for a second, that you won’t care to look back again.
So I did what I do (to the best of my knowledge of the sham that is the self),
I set free the three-headed fox on whomever might have been around us. And I didn’t know which would face you.
One apprehensive and dismissive, given the chance,
Teeth cocked under thin lips, ready.
One in thunderous laughter and fairytale whimsy,
Eyes lidless and steady.
Last one, I prayed
Stays muzzled, dumb and drowned.
I wipe its mouth everyday but you can tell the saliva stains,
Pus and rust in reddish gold,
There to stay, like the piece of lead shining on its dome,
No more than a piece of emerald lodged into the spirit’s home.
So let me tell you the trick,
The three are one in crystal notes oozing out of humming amps.
Hug his bones broken, and let ‘em dangle
In the winds of imagined change.