The States

I sat maybe across your crooked path

Led like a snake in the grass

Facing glass I made haste

And left to waste

A beautiful daughter of the dark

I was humbled by beauty

Before I touched her naked body

And it spread like an oxygen fire

From my hands to my brain

To sparks that set in motion

A catastrophe of proportions

Perfectly met and consumed

By the plague of endless desire

Breathe a little

Then leave

I consider it medicine

To take more than give

A setting sun

A bottle of ill regret

A stomach full of the past

And a head full of half dreams

I awoke to find the ceiling

Uncomforting

No one made me better than I made myself

And it’s not a secret I’ve sold myself back

We watched the moon crawl up the spine of night

And we sat motionless under fiery stars

And we shot words into the atmosphere

Wishing the moment was suspended in air

Like a hanged man for the crime of passion

God has no fate

If the flowers want to tangle

They will

And I will watch

With open eyes

And a head full of dynamite