Cassandra

Cassandra
he has changed her skin with those fingertips they carve his name so only she can read their secret this brief candle and the sound of its hissing extinguish
he has charged her with those fingernails that purr just behind her ear an unzipping sound of her skull from her skin or her mind from his
he has chanced this one last second to glance up white reflecting glasses screening they count the atoms between them so slowly she has time to gasp

In the hurricane in the shelters they lay wet with pain like sponges
In the siren they hear each other perfectly they lay limp with words

she has marked his face with her carved skin all she does is stay here so the future's set in drying clay it cracks when struck by lightening
she has masked his face with her own smirk just beneath the foaming surf beside the pillared monument the dead ring their hellos to them
she has marred this one last second with crosses at wrong angles the damn spot fizzles in the waves it inflames like spilled oil



Itch to scratch

not known long enough to say this
all the paper will burn
all the cities will fall
she is certain as the water is of rain

its written somewhere
snakes will crawl up poles
angel wings will molt
So say the spirits we don't believe in

oh plastic towers far too high
oh paint, and tin, and steel
ink and data and cloth
she is certain all will be lost tomorrow

on the seashore i'm waiting for the initial flash
at the edge of the land it is quicksand