a flood of material from The Book of the Night Sky
the chemical light
the melting radiance
and the scattered patterns
of the figure-eight filament
framed her in incandescent glow
as I sat cornered in awe
before the mystery of a most holy love
a gilt arch of flaming tongues
counted the paths to her paradise
as she pondered the Brahman
and the sameness of every god
and every word
in the system
there is a ladder to heaven
and she holds the lantern
away from Kali'ma
Sri Brahma birth a higher rung for us to stand upon
Sri Vishnu keep this chemical light alive
Sri Shiva crush the scoundrel folded in my heart
an exercise in regret
we stood at dusk
hidden from your father
and smoked and spoke
your finger tapped against the cigarette
and the embers umbrellaed
wafting to singe my skin
I begged for indulgence
at any cost
that kinetic essence of forgiveness
albeit insincere
and I received the gaze
that mauls and lacerates
and salts a wound
the way a mouse retaliates
against the flesh of a dying lion
in the reassimilation
of the predator to the prey
I am still lynched in your love
chanting an anthemic dirge
although I am innocent
I will hang from you porch in Monroeville
until you cut me down
abolition of the strings
I sat at Ayer's rock
once in that even-time
bordering apathetic sleep
and ethereal nullification
praying repentant
to the sinuous dreamer
for nomenclature
to the arduous banter of time
and I thought of this garnished carbon
this hued failing armor
that undulates without will
to the intermittent matriculations
of a heathen master
he sang to me
there is room for Apollo
and room for a Christ
there is sleep beneath the rock
and abolition of the strings
Am7 dim
my guard was dropped
like the clumsy tumble of a goblet
from the hand of a drunken guest
I played guitar that night
until my fingers bled
and the same chord
diminished and dissonant
echoed your name
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