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until we are dead |
it's snowing out covering the steps we swept and the shuffling sheep you threw me on the floor saint cards flew dropped with my stomach my brain the lights st george slaying dragons st teresa feeling her heartbeat jesus with mascara all hit the floor i bought them in beograd for ten cents in september in the window reflection i could see two women who held the sky in their eyes and whose blood rushed so hard, it parted to make way for gardens of towering redwoods and so many seeds my mouth tasted more of heaven the saints ever dreamt up my body on fire hotter than the deepest darkest depths the baptists ever preached of i have an unbroken wishbone i have a house fire bottle i have an auschwitz stone with a sprouting sacred flower and a big big love the snow will bury us by morning surely- i'll make tea and you'll make bread and we'll do this until we are dead |