The sun is not bright,

when the moon is awake.

The clouds are not white,

When the rain is to break.

Their constituency changes,

As the earth rotate.

I will always be there for you,

From weather to climate change.

I am stoned with

Blurry details

& fucked by my nightmares

When tossed

And turned

And Churning with

Pentecostal words

Bury me with the Pastel flowers

Those Painted

On your mother’s couch

Tie me up with the stem

And Suffocate me

Under an afghan

Fold me into a box

Inside your barrel chest

While our consciousness dances

With antique dust Angels

& for Demon eyes watching

And As we try to sleep

Do you remember me?

We escaped into cracks

Like rats in a sewer

Wet with devotion

In A blackened shelter

And Harboring our angst

On its stoic anxiety

We found temporary satiation

For our tearing minds

Emptying like wounds

In philosophical tongue

And on inbred prophecies

Our childhood was mocked

In an Appalachian haze

Phonetically ill-defined

With picturesque scenes

Remove me from reality

& our diseased hope

Our Love was my undoing

And now I am gone