Open Fire-

You're catching fire through the scent of this
and find destruction through my synthesis.
Fighting for fists sold delicious,
Can't you see his lips gone listless?
Cradle aching bones and broken loneliness,
Tears like mended beds fitting perfection,
Pretending and possessing every mouthful of lust
and sending screams into the night.

Courtney Roach
February 23-26, 2009