well

she spat back to me the politics of my words
every letter hung like hooks
catching the public walking by
i dragged them around for hours till i decided to jump in the river
they drowned promptly with minutes

i could spot the park from the river
sloping to recede into an asphalt grave
the buildings grace the skyline of our dead forests
sycamores ghosts shuffle through our alleys
begging for a cup of coins.
emperors whisper lullabys to soothe the blood.

i could say the sunsets are only the light reflecting off the atmosphere
but how can one ignore the dichotomy of the blood and the sea.
in better days ive seen the sun bow out gracefully to the reign of the moon, but tonight
the fire above weeps for you and i.