indulgence

dance around yourself

free of contentment.

you've made me blessed with weakness,

tongue-tied to erasure.

this cathedral, ghost flames,

grows no roots,

only branches to branches to branches,

multiplied to oblivion.

there is a baseline, a background tune,

swallowed by handmade cries-

but we're getting there,

that moment

not when everything falls into place,

but when the sound becomes too clear

to care for the echoes.

relapse

dawn comes with no resolve

in the temple of man there is a darkness that tastes like honey

outside, realms unfolding, piercing the horizon with their harlequin heart

eons awry, towering over the sun

i sit and wait at the centre of this chamber of the moon

for my robes to be undone and my work to begin

lie no more; i have seen the truth like a spear through your heart

colliding with my veiled eyes in a moment’s shuddering surprise

and i am giving it up

to thirst for another, the treasure hidden in plain view

sheltered from disarming graces and venom-laden words

as simple as a head’s turn toward the east on a summer morning

the end is nowhere near

but we are already there

unflinching with sobriety and clutching our stomachs with laughter

touching the clouds from this treetop, well and not well

i am not a stranger to the night’s inner workings,

soothing the mind and lifting the spirit to renewed heights

but today, the sun is silent

and we build our cities over ancient sites, oblivious to the ashes below

anthem

there’s the light and then there’s the dark spears behind it, dwelling in your eyes like lances in the hands of warriors that traded their destiny for comfort

horizon flooded with violent dawn, a wallpaper to your quiet fantasies

is it starting to take shape, darting forward, heels scraping the ground?

does it burn your toes, wistful for exile, a rampage for liberty?

there is no other way but the way that is

urging your nails to dig into skin, riverbanks that pull your blood upwards, a celestial magnet that grips and teases until you wield

what good is surrender without force

what good is force without surrender

remember the snake, double-headed and preaching oblivion?

weary warrior, thought alone can’t bring you home

let the anchor pull you towards the earth until you find another sky

burning red and roaring with incandescent clouds, a mirror to your heart

it’s a time when words are only broken syllables and unsteady steps are smoke in the wind

these gods ask you to plant your feet in the ground until you grow roots

the violence of spring blossoms, breaking tender skin to bloom

every new life is built on a sacrifice

and isn’t it naked beauty, how black turns into white in these ever-changing harmonies?

build your armour and dart forward

play as if you are not blind and your eyelids will grow new eyes, wide open in every direction

because life and death dance around each other until they are one, as cycles of the earth, tides ever pulling and releasing

i want to hold your face and teach you tenderness as you place the knife in my hand

i want to show you the rival in front of your eyes and the weapon on your back

but i’m still asleep, a dreamer needs his cradle

you and i crave the battlefield, made of concrete, where the only way to win is keeping our hearts clean

there is blood on our hands, not from war, but from untimely surrender

we are ours, more than ever we are ours

so forget the flag, step your foot down for all your ghosts to see

hands reaching towards the sky, a monument to this purgatory, both seed and harvest

and take steps toward the light