Blasphemy.

It's suddenly the middle of summer.
Winter has crawled out of my attic,
now tombstones and bone dust.

I spread my arms far out.

You never coached me on
how to fly, but somehow I know.

The heat envelops me
in a way his arms never could.

I want this moment to last forever.

There are no sirens or seizures here,
only dreams that were given wings
and spirit and permanence.

But, as soon as I open my eyes,
the temples collapse.

This is not a utopia.

Written on the walls, soaked on my palms,
drawn in patterns on the front of my teeth,

are your death notes.

I've swallowed the sharpest parts of you,
at least your memory,

and now you're lodged in
every regret and recollection.

______________________________

Inspired by Goldfrapp's 2008 album "Seventh Tree".