Copper oxidation smiles green around our ringed
fingers filled with the folly of better times as
chip tunes plot our path to destruction and self-imposed
exile to other pastures-
greener, some might say.
I croak hollow at the gestures of love
we dance with, between shouting matches of whispered
words and spoken unutterables that neither dare approach
or use in our moonlight debacles as we take our forms,
A monstrosity of purpled wings and sphinx’s dedication,
with harpy claws to match.
The animist of the broken lineage,
Your ancestral yearning,
falling on deaf ears.
You’ll pay their blood debt,
even if their blood has run dry.
The crow’s own heart and tongue,
Littering your yards with gifts of my own desire.
I who stole the cookie from the fox
and laughed while it starved,
singing songs none care for-
myself not excluded.
But our endless numbered days have yet to end
and we will keep counting.