You and Me

 

You are not what you read in the dusty grease-stained papers

Or hear in the wind that whistles its cold air

Across the black inky words

Plastered in the lost streets of your crevassed mind

 

Nor are you the truth of what others say

In their naked lightbulb moments

Around coffeeshop tables of bent spoons, sticky milk and glass coffee

Or tea leaves that won’t tell

 

And you are not the angry people that march the squares of emptiness

Waving placards on sticks dug up from stolen backyard memories

Wearing wigs and wings and clouded thoughts with painted faces

With concrete coated in pigeon dust

Shouting with no voices

 

But you are mounting evidence that life grows on life sparking

Off firecrackers exploding like dominos of bullets

With disregard for time, or tempo, or circumstance

Until there is no horizon left of night or day

And you are left standing

As evidence

Of me

Artwork by Miachevelli Cro