city of stars

incandescent bursts spreading across the landscape burning through the tissue-stained-glass sky membrane scarring the earth with hair-thin meanders coating the night with smoky urban clouds

What can I give this world that it hasn't tried already I see peoples' screams in the windows of their eyes their calloused hands mark out their years of tribulations How to redeem this merciless world? Wiping its hands of peoples' oppression Asserting destruction on the most broken How to make this world a world that we belong to a house is not a home without the warmth of loving arms the acceptance of open doors and purposeful smiles breaking bread, not bones we need to feel our feet against the soil connect our veins to the vital organs of every child, every grandmother every cold body on a dirty street The world is our failing and the only salvation divine intervention exists only in your hands

I want I want I want something that exists only in memories in shiny little boxes taped shut with tinsel and lace hiding stale air and the now of then the then of now the if of when the relief in sadness the hope in loss the you that never was the me that never was the us that never was inherently miscalculated an over-extension of the wrist an over-exertion of the heart an over-heating of the speaker blaring from a chattering computer window the never quite moved in room but lived in with pizza boxes and drinking shoes and frames with pictures of faces blurring in and out with time put in I want only because I know to fear it fear that you can touch tattoos your heart like a punch in the chest wind out legs up breathing in tearing out let go of the unexisting unmemory unromance fade into being