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Description
i.

We are ships in the night

would be such a cliche
thing to say
about us;

we are prideful daisies,
sorry men and women -
you suck down your cigarette
like a god inhaling a forest fire.

You think
you can put us

out.

How bright
we burn -

they can see us from the shore.

ii.

Time has passed.

Roads have been paved.

And you're still there
and I hate you

hate you,
hate you,
hate you,

because we are not sinners.
We're bigger
than sin.
We are not giants
nor the mother nor the child nor the
sea nor the earth nor the god
nor whatever else you might think

will fix this.

Whatever will fix this,

this
we are not.

We -

iii.

There's been a murder,
just like last time.

There's a priest come to investigate
and you're still burning the body.
You're still wiping the floors
of all the blood,

and what are you going to do,
anyways,

when they find out
about all the others?

Even if you planned for the trial
and created your alibi

you're still a small,
small thing,

a babe among the trees.
Saplings
don't belong
in the wild.
The sun burns them
when they leave the nursery
too soon.

We are -

iv.

The desert:

patchy
& clean.

You are still hotter
than a sun,
and they still
can see you
from the shore.

You are so far away
from home.

You've dragged me there
with you,

and we can accuse
and a c c u s e
accuse accuse accuse

but there is no water.

It is getting quiet.

I think,

we should have -

we should have called

mother.

dcvi.

We are sorry.

Description
i.

We are ships in the night

would be such a cliche
thing to say
about us;

we are prideful daisies,
sorry men and women -
you suck down your cigarette
like a god inhaling a forest fire.

You think
you can put us

out.

How bright
we burn -

they can see us from the shore.

ii.

Time has passed.

Roads have been paved.

And you're still there
and I hate you

hate you,
hate you,
hate you,

because we are not sinners.
We're bigger
than sin.
We are not giants
nor the mother nor the child nor the
sea nor the earth nor the god
nor whatever else you might think

will fix this.

Whatever will fix this,

this
we are not.

We -

iii.

There's been a murder,
just like last time.

There's a priest come to investigate
and you're still burning the body.
You're still wiping the floors
of all the blood,

and what are you going to do,
anyways,

when they find out
about all the others?

Even if you planned for the trial
and created your alibi

you're still a small,
small thing,

a babe among the trees.
Saplings
don't belong
in the wild.
The sun burns them
when they leave the nursery
too soon.

We are -

iv.

The desert:

patchy
& clean.

You are still hotter
than a sun,
and they still
can see you
from the shore.

You are so far away
from home.

You've dragged me there
with you,

and we can accuse
and a c c u s e
accuse accuse accuse

but there is no water.

It is getting quiet.

I think,

we should have -

we should have called

mother.

dcvi.

We are sorry.