stella red

staring at a tranquil mixture of crimson and opioids
intaking fragrances resembling foreign destinations
running fingers over the contusions of the wounded
anatomizing the formulary facets of a mutual agreement

twenty four hours from now, we'll be dust

the pendant

layering the walls of this room with our voices
in an expendable argument for the sake of regularity
feeding the community tension pool
alleviating the quiet that we fear

in keeping faith with our pretentious lore,
our children will be waking up to war.

a safe bet

slowly
revolving
on
a
pedestal
made
of
malevolence 

back to hell

what transpired from that day?
what was left on the cutting room floor?

i'd like to know you someday
i'd like to feel you to the bones.

dressed down

ear pressed against your ribs
miscalculating the air in your lungs
calmly producing beta waves
our voices coarse, vocal folds numb

running our fingers
across international datelines
unnervingly consoling
not taking what is not mine

the utmost respect
displayed in my actions
the lowered gate
displayed in my imperfections

taking you on this journey
of mutual incoherence
bringing you to this epiphany
something of remembrance.