The Way

lights out
time passes
summer close
i gotta sit down
i gotta find my friends
they have forgotten
the fairy tale ending

an open door
understanding
earth, my soul
never feel so good
as when i’m wonderin’
what i might be missing

the night
lonely star’s light
underneath it all
everybody knows
we’re gonna burn
fire, fire
in the darkest places
i know the way

The Way

Combustion

I’m gonna take a chance on
taking a chance some time soon.

You and me are lords of the good things in life, you know.
Lords of the good things.

You and me are the fire and the pain.
We are why things burn.

The good things.
We are the lords of the good things in life.

Light to fear and heat to kill.
Good things.

I’m gonna take a chance on
taking a chance sometime soon.

Combustion

Herculaneum

when you watch the sun blot out,
you lose yourself to stone*
and dirt
and bone
and hurt.

you lose yourself to the mirror
that shows you aren’t the hero,
that shows you without powers
or skills or knowledge
to save your people
from extinction.

your people need the sun,
the light,
the sky,
their people.

your people,
our people,
we watch the sun disappear
without a proper goodbye,
all together,
huddled,
a.d .lo.e
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*hat tip to https://theweesmirk.wordpress.com/2020/09/18/pompeii/ for this couplet as a prompt

Herculaneum

Weeping While Melting

This is the way romance engulfs:
with air that tastes like burning
and eyes that penetrate like
long-buried memories of forgotten,
backseat lovers.

This is why we have moral majorities.

I never said, “I can’t do this.”

Still, you glared at me for an eternity
and when you blinked,
I shifted shapes:
a man,
a child,
a silent forest,
a flower with no petals.

I blinked away
from in front of you
into your mind
where you could be
somewhat left alone with your thoughts.

“I love you,”
you whispered to yourself.
“I always will.”

You once told me what would happen when the end arrived.
You told me the gulls would fly backwards
and the moon would split into separate, but equal, parts.

Still, we danced.
We laughed.
We approched every apocalypse
as trained eschatologists.

Now, in the deep recesses
of your fractured memories,
I still sit surprised
by how warmly you welcomed
those frightening flames.

Weeping While Melting