sifting for fools gold by permanence-in-flux, literature
Literature
sifting for fools gold
slit wrists contain more
silt than might be thought
residual dirt we have
on each other’s sunken
hearts
pour souls instead of
friends
where the bottom of the bottle is
hell
and we need to keep all our
secrets
cauterizing into glass
and making fast our fall
into heaven
with stained-red wings
we’ll join the choir
base, not baritone
low and beholden
our process to molten
the sands of every hourglass
freezing time only to
break it
and through the cacophony
we’ll pick out a melody
to the tune of
hearts imprisoned in castles of
sand and soot and
the ashes of sacrificial lust