eternity’s grace

evidence of yesterday’s kisses
spill over into the long season
of shedding

new skin lies smooth beneath
the crackle dry surface

of the dream you had at twenty
the one that stole your color
by breathing green into a night
bargaining for darkness

you held hands with the prince
of petulance and whisper gestured
your undying fealty
to the king of lacrimosa

but the birds
pick your bones clean
now
after every word’s been spoken

you feed their flight
with dried up chips and bits

of purple

offering up the life
that was singularly yours

food for folly and for freedom

as the sky rests its head
on your satisfied
shoulders

.

.

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