last bridge.

new one. probably going to change soon. i don't feel like typing this one out, so my apologies for the spacing. blame the website.

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a star set atop a piano and forgotten.

losing your breath inside outside.

sister’s face impressed in the folds of a pillow.

a hand spanning the city.

i stretched my palm far as I could then balled my fingers in a fist,

tried to hold you and your memory

and felt you shake inside slipping out

and came up empty-handed

except

a message etched on my wrist and up from

God I think.

it read something like.

 

‘and when you pass the last bridge you will feel the earth

give up

what’s left of her breath

retired respired inspired in you

the language of leaves torn from the tops of trees

by the wind and forced into

unpaid labor

on the ground.

nothing is a fraction of itself,

you are whole and holy and

leaves like us belong in the sky.

spring will come sometime

soon.

it has to.

 

‘and when you pass the last bridge you will step onto land again

and feel it’s hot breath

fill your lungs and feel your lungs topped off and

your soul spilt on stage.

just let it lie.

let the strays

lap it up ‘cause when they do

rats will turn to kings and

alley cats to alley tigers

and the earth with what breath it has left

will look less like a possession. say to them

“we own nothing, not even ourselves.

and no.

my soul is not for sale.

i divvied it up

each piece is for free

and it’s as good as yours.

i’ll carry it for you, for now.

i’ll carry an upper case

T and L for

Truth and Love

and call it the new capital-ism.”

and when the stray cats turn to stray tigers

they will shed

all over the place.

I mean, orange hair

all over the place.

you will lint-brush your heart and see

that one stranger is human after all and

that one stranger looks less dangerous after all,

not with six hundred pound cats on the loose.

i think its for the better.

abstracts like race erased, no such thing,

not with six hundred pound cats on the loose.

maybe you’ve heard,

i’m more of a cat-person myself.

 

‘when you pass the last bridge

I’ll probably laugh and let you in my chest

and you will lint-brush my heart

and you may not love me back,

but its better for your allergies anyways.’