Cogs and wheels fill with eroded sanctity,
surrounded by songs for her, for the world,
the earth trampled beneath. Brimstone and
silk upon a sea of words, all of whom gave
Sagan his sonnets, Shakespeare his lab
beakers, the Lady Elizabeth a library of
ancient philosophers upon a throne of
Broken clocks against an everlasting
pendulum, the toxic sun falling to its quiet
melancholy, I look at creation in front of
me. Smoke fills my senses, the familiar taste
of ash upon the tip of my lips. I reach out
to caress acidic oceans, a mixture of sulfur
and lithium staining my mind. Wires choke
me, shards of glass that go nowhere most
of the time.
But I still see you.
I see you racing around, your fragile hands
against your unwavering heart. I see your
beautiful sins and ugly will crying out for
friends and family, keep them safe, keep them
warm, smiling and laughing as you once were
before. I see your unspoken prayers, uttering
softly against your lips as you try to see another
day, to seek out another life in a faraway
To give you that undying lullaby,
filled with silent ambience, cries
outweighing the many and the few,
the assumption that no one still knew.
But I can’t help but love you.