Corner

Love. A flag clinging to the burning battlement like smoke in the rain.

We carve our names in the heart of a purple tree

And wait

But I can’t

I linger, blink, fumble, swallow miles of sand

All because these trigger-happy fingers feel

Like forgotten men in city parks feeding carrion counterparts

Of all the people they once thought they knew

 

“Knew-to know?”

 

You turn to me

Shrug

And with a shovel

And steel

And fire

Bury all my pain in your southern lips

Then you dress and tell me what I’ve always wanted to hear

That you’d prefer it if we held hands

And leapt off the edge of the world