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.
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