a volcano on the black horizon
happily spewed freed demons
from its red mouth.
you could not stop your screaming,
like the screams that come
with the birthing of things.
i could not stop staring at
the long toothpick legs
of the brand new baby crow.
some fire went out in the rain
on the tin rooftop
of a dead mans warehouse.
you looked glorious, beautiful, ugly
like a spider. standing on
that haunted spiral staircase.
dont come falling helplessly into
my arms like the cold burnt out
stars. come warmly.
