Grace

The best thing about Tennessee is that you can leave it, but where would I go? It’s all on fire out there.

No place above the stars or warmed by the sun, your life will be taken in this war, no matter what allegiance you wear.

I sit in James Agee Park, after work, the air starting to chill again, hoping for a moment to dream, before I am taken by despair.

 

I dream of a moment, the last hurrah for innocence, when it was winter and I was an angel, and she touched my face.

Laying entwined, at peace and content, some kisses, some sighs, I was whole and loved, a fleeting moment of grace.

And that grinning skull the moon looked down but did not see us, could not find us, as love had struck down it’s animal face.

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