What hope do you put in love?
in pavement-dank shadows, the hidden boxes
the children play with chalked fingers-
they are birds
biting at the toes of passerby.
oak eyed and bitter palmed-
they are dandelion housewives
who scratch at the fringes of dead factories.
gathering in supernova thumbprints
the walls bloom
with their saccharine heartbeats.
and they are soft and wilted,
apricot eyelids painting
the vaulted ceilings of their minds.
They are endless.