Street Tar Home


Of the days
when I woke up as the crystal
that screamed like bells
and exploded on the pavement,

My soul streamed
through eyes you called
delicate.

And what,
when my nose kissed the concrete?

And what
of upturned bedskirts
and soldered joints?
Of creases and
newly driven nails?

We said the words.
We said the words.
We said the words
until they became the moon.

And they were with the wind
that blued like the potholes in your mind.

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