Travis Cebula

Sky Burial #46

Joan of Arc           winks

at reclusive red

         Mars in the corner—

Mars slinks        into the corner

              while all the stars dance.

but two                warminds      think alike—

                 that night they met

and thought           no one

would notice them                      leaving—

the solution to loneliness swallowed—

to save the city          burn the city down

              like two teenagers

on borrowed bikes

burn             and don’t know why—

kiss me, killer

he says                     to his soulmate—

we could be gods—

     you know,          teenagers

                          feel the same like that     or

look the same like that        or maybe it’s

just that the night sky

is indistinguishable in smoke

                      or fog for someone

with their eyes closed.

looking up,          gods and lovers

                           all think the same thing—

          they could bury us there.