breaking fourth in stare
the snake’s a road that knows
tired with it’s lids laid low
the art of all of this
is leaking from her lips
in a blue evolution
I cry for all the joy
that remains in void
longing for it’s solution
I’m cradled in the dune
I see a bloody moon
a habit to employ
and one I must destroy
before it takes us too soon
I’m ravaged in the cold
this blanket’s getting old
time for one more reunion
a seam that’s stitched in gold
can still break at the fold
unless the whole shares its brilliance
a case of reason be
still mocks you in the street
with the lamp held curb low