Family Portrait

The stars reflected from the dirty fingernails,
as one drags his feet across the tundra,
footsteps forgotten
by lovers
eaten by an emotional cannibal.

A drop of blood
sculpts the mark of the brother
his forehead displayed beneath the setting sun
all, rejoice!

Jesus rises from a layer of skin,
shedded from the bones of the snake,
a sister healing the Earth,
with tears that taste like love;
I've seen the angel hiding in the mirrors.

Mothers fists becomes the tempest,
the spirits drift within her river of life,
haunted
faces,
lost in shadowed skies.

(What do we see?)

Homeless man
lonely,
filthy;
the eternal damnation of he who thinks there is no love.

He watches a family from the depths of the fires,
and the stars of Hell fall from his fingertips,
grace-
-fully,
never knew what shone beyond the perfect portrait horizon.