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Arriving at the Crematorium After the Furnace Has Been Lit

from Crude Language by blood like wine.

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lyrics

Where there exists a query of intent,
assumption of curiosity must be made:
Let doubt, and any of its kin,
parade all grievances here and now,
turbulent disillusion having been
overplayed by
an overthinking brain. I have
prayed in my own way,
own tongue, to be content
with scarcity. This promise of
a trade - this promise of plenty -
has my ribs splayed from spine:
broken eagle bliss. What I meant
is that you have me,
just me, arrayed in just my skin,
which is my hide,
a shade of grey too light
for chalk upon cement to show
a contrast. This is
no tirade: I love
the way your face
rests, love displayed
on bones my kiss will clothe
as raiment.

credits

from Crude Language, released May 10, 2019

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all rights reserved

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blood like wine. Memphis, Tennessee

Strong Style Memphis folk. Haunting, gorgeous, raw, unique - just like this city. Esoteric to the point of being unpleasant.

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