THISisME

44.caliber love letter
2003-07-29 23:01:59 (UTC)

.a.fire.inside.

we held hands on the last night on earth. our mouths filled
with dust, we kissed in the fields and under trees,
screaming like dogs, bleeding dark into the leaves. it was
empty on the edge of town but we knew everyone was floating
along the bottom of the river. so we walked through the
waste where the road curved into the sea and the shatter
seasons lay, and the bitter smell of burning was on you
like a disease. in our cancer of passion you said "death is
a midnight runner." the sky had came crashing down like the
news of an intimate suicide. we picked up the shards and
formed them into shapes of stars that wore like an antique
wedding dress. the echoes of the past broke the hearts of
the unborn as the ferris wheel silently slowed to a stop.
the few insects skittered away in hopes of a better
pastime. i kissed you at the apex of the maelstrom and
asked you if you would accompany me in a quick fall, but
you made me realize that my ticket wasn't good for two. i
rode alone. you said, "the cinders are falling like snow."
there is poetry in dispair, and we sang with unrivaled
beauty, bitter eligies of savagery and eloquence. of blue
and grey. strange, we ran down the desperate streets and
carved our names into the flesh of the city. the sun has
stagnated somewhere beyond the rim of the horizon and the
darkess is a mystery of curves and lines. still, we lay
under the emptiness and drifted slowly outward, and
somewhere in the wilderness we found salvation scratched
into the earth like a message.




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