20
Witchpull
how to keep your waterglow?
I can tell, you haven't seen the asylum waiting to burn
it is true; a group of teens filled
an abandoned swimming pool with coins
and pearls, hard candy and oxycodone
a miracle one crawled out alive
but you admit you fear being bottled in an apocalypse
how do you feel about omnipotent
ancestors, glued to your lashes, their buttery
tinctures dripping on your belly button?
don't say I didn't warn you about floating skyward
all you'll find is a church with a giant
silver cross, pinned next to a doll club
I can also tell you've never drank in and spat
on a stranger's marriage, or aligned torment with seduction
hung-over on an unmade bed, buying yourself
the eerie flatness of attachment
waterglow is limitless, you see, but blood can never be
reach down to your ankles, notice the cracking and
reconnecting of bones
their old / new obsessions to connect
and re-connect
there is beauty in vanishing waters too, but
are you sure evaporating is what you want?
so then, unfry your silver smoke, sometimes we just color
ourselves static in pretend heroism