3 rivers converge, water spilling like salvia surging over banks and promises flooded from too much, mud molding to bodies, jack-hammered together with rivets and pierced with concrete spanning bridges, tongues slide from one side, underneath an ashen sky, soot gathering round hips and thighs, wading waist deep in sludgy sin, you whisper, �begin.� i shout, �i did, two states ago.� my hands � now � tangled in (scraping your screams, mangled on roads) your hair, my palms traffic, dragging you here by your arms, stretched out, misused by a highway map misread, i spread your legs 3 rivers wide, like buildings raping the sunlight, molesting the sky, you dream in a scream, stream tunnel, dark trains pounding tracks, howling steam rounding my fist, on fire, forging fast, scars inside, leather shredding skin, neck pulled back, lips glistening sin, where do we begin: Bent on a desk. WE are the sky, bent over a city � a creation cant die. |