14.1.09

burnt heaven's scar glows, and calls me
cutting to signal the end of one chapter
and the beginning of a new.

"what we hate, we make"
remember now why these lyrics spoke to me
winter wind, winding trees and blinding hugs
spending time as change, refusing to have
pockets with holes burnt in

i would drive a nail into the book
through paper leaves and leather binding
glue and taut string, keeping all as is

but it melts away under the still-turning pages
reminding me that my heart is full and still and unsure
in a way, i'm still that boy gasping in the night air after jr's
still he whose heart flutters watching you turn away
i still hold the yellow lily and wonder

when it will bloom again; maybe i could
listen to the darkness's hum and learn
to run my fingers along hidden scars,
still unknowing the body they trace.