May 16
emmett's picture

Spitting Blood


Who are the ones that dance
through fields of broken glass
and shattered sun? Who are 
the ones that spit out sorrow 
like used blood? Somewhere
between here & there (& you)
I lost myself in dreams--in the faces
that stared back at me through
glowing pains. Until one day 
I woke up to a mouthful of blood,
 & a name I remembered ringing 
in my ears (beauty).  & so I went,
running, jumping, twisting, never
letting pain hold me down, never
letting the weariness stop my feet
from trampling sharpened glass. We 
dance and dance until the sunset
--until one day the sky breaks open &
we fall into rust.
I will love it again all the same.