Bad dreams. Always bad dreams. Frantic. Exhausting.
I sit outside. Smoke a cigarette. Wait for Armageddon.
Nuclear silos nearby. Word could come. Arrogant fire.
Give an ape a match and he’ll always burn the jungle down.
My lover is still sleeping. She says The Fey will come for us.
We’ll live underground and be young forever and not burn.
My lover, while we were drinking, showed me the scar.
Scar on her belly. The aliens caesarianed her hybrid baby.
Fire. Nuclear fire. Big atomic blaze in the sky. Keeps us warm.
Fire. Nuclear fire. We flicked the flint on the sun. Burn ourselves.
The sun keeps it’s distance out of love. It’s generosity could ruin.
We bring it here. We make it here. Stupid, hate filled apes.
My lover calls a name in her sleep. His name. The one before.
The Fey feel distant. Like the heart I spray painted on Pluto.
My lover has a serpent’s kiss. The sweet venom gives visions.
I was beyond all space and time. And then I came down forever.
The sun. The Bomb. The Fey who might come through on a dare.
What was a kiss in the sky ends us with a fist on the earth.
My lover reads my thoughts, when the reels runs out on her dreams.
An intimate invasion. I saved that one word for my True Spirit: