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you ask for onions & strawberries — our #ngers porous handle the cast iron warm you ask for children and the goddess leaves us fool’s gold —
I dig a hole and bury myself, the glint under my tongue
I, the little princesses from childhood —
the golden star of the sky, I walk my sweet way from the garden —
I come home to #nd my wife dead.
I have a beautiful soul—it should not be taken away, not yet— but soon
I have a place not to go: I can choose it on earth—
The #rst step is for me; the second is always for you,
a path upturned of dirt— suck on rotted tooth casting endless;
The moon & sun shine on my face when I lie there
and the stars are with the king in triumph; his belly splayed in sacri#ce -
I can feel the way you are walking—
the sky is bright with the decay of galaxies, the night calm as you sleep under their fate.
This is my story and I wish
it does not become lost,
when the stars leave us—
my hand should reach them— If I don't want them,
I