If I stand still enough,
I can feel the floors shudder
with your long Menthol cough.
You light up another
just to catch your breath,
hang one more hazy signature on the air.
& Lily, I can hear
the sound of your life through these walls
as you search through the angels & broken lights.
Spiders spin their pride
through the iron lace above our heads
as your cheeks flare: a burnt rose for the yard.
& Cal stands behind me, eyes like camera lenses
With the fallen star of today
frozen, with a snap of his head.
‘Nothing is alive in this house’ she says.
‘Merry fucking Christmas…’ the plastic deer reply.
a christmas carol