|Ayelet Raziel: The Passenger III|
Like May in June
I gave my heart to wolves
but prior to the ground
the sun called me human. No,
I'm a maniac on a divine path
time traveling through wine stains
screaming at shrouded shadows
"Over my dead body!"
like it's never been a possibility.
But death has a kind face;
the kind of face you buy a drink
and share time with.I shared everything
but innocent evasions and found
Babylonian keys in caution.
My dreams secreted secret shepherds
in a stir of traffic signs
that only failed to dissipate
in a discordant chord of vacant melody.
Deaf in the dark wood of error and misery
I armed myself against sanity
to break futures from leashes that
drag dead dogs down dirt roads.
I'll take aim against exotic novelties
of marketed treasure and waste the
romantic tyrants in a disco flurry
of bullet dances until they're dead
like May in June.