9-1-1
I forgot the taste of reality
On brick-dusted lips because
I can’t speak the truth.
It’s too hard to say:
I know the shirt you wore that day
Or I can still smell the baked pavement
Or I want to go back and throw myself in the flames.
So, I’ll just simply say
Grey
Grey sunset
Grey sunset in the back of two black buildings
Grey sunset in the back of twin black buildings
Grey sunset in the back of twin black buildings when birds flew into glass and blood
dripped in spirals down their back.
Grey sunset in the back of twin black building when birds flew into glass and blood dripped in spirals down their back. I saw a house of cards fall that day.
I think they thought I was dirty
Because a bath,
Not of blood,
But of gray flakes of ashes
Rained from the sky.
It swallowed me whole.
Your shirt was red that day.
You smelled of cinnamon sticks and honesty
Kissed me on the pulse
To reverse my life source
And went into a building where
I saw a house of cards fall
When birds flew into glass and blood dripped in spirals down their back.
Grey sunset in the back of twin black buildings.
Grey sunset.
Grey.