Chill

when the next worldly revelation arrives in a billowing sky of dust, the moon breathes that painful light of creation

That icy chill that comes with the sun’s shadow

Is it so cold to freeze off limbs?

Will it warm the blood in confined confusion

Before it melts off all nerves

Like a poisoned, broken apple

Like the one Adam and Eve shared?

We tend to catalog and categorize pain in levels

It looks like a new sort of cancer

Or brand new art

A splattered canvas with no discernible detail

But how can you make this look like anything

When sun is cold

And moon is boiling hot?

When skies all black and yellow and once midnight milky blue,

Tend to staple together like inhuman claws, all red and dry and sharp

To kill your sense of humor like stuck in glass at your heel

I dance wildly with no expression, like Ariel, sea-foam forming at my fingertips and toes as you

Painfully walk past me in silence

Forgetting me is easy

But don’t forget

If you keep doing this again

If you keep going on without

Remembering stuffing others with fat you cannot trim

Kills us inside…

The sun will always run cold.