and then the rain of colorless fire
on the children dancing all night in warehouses
skin greasy like candles, dark wicks of hair,
chewing on rat poison, speaking in silent tongues
blind in the embrace of the mother heartbeat

in the living rooms of strange houses, black paper
holding the creeping dawn from the windows
sweat streaking the walls, bodies swaying
like fronds of seaweed, sleeping heads on stalks
drifting forgetfully down the dry ice river

when you're coming up, do you like to talk?
or to hug, dance, fuck, sing, laugh, cry -
to make a crucifix of yourself against the sun
something to hold back demons and daylight,
to exchange a year, three years of life just for tonight

magnesium babies burning karma, like sadhus
in their years of penance, palms pierced
by their own fingernails, limbs withered,
eyes bright, gaze unmeetable, bodies twisting
like saplings in a slow flame, the ecstasy kids

rubbing each others cheeks and bellies
chewing spearmint and smoking menthol
crushed and burnt and molded into each other
this is how they learned to link hands
across their void, and they don't care how it ends


This is original work
Thanks to thefez who shouted the title of this node into the chatterbox one day - I don't know what he was talking about, and it's probably better that way.

Log in or registerto write something here or to contact authors.