Bulls & China – Erin

Covetous mysteries made
of our two aged faces
painted with occasional farce
The script on the walls
making us hate our written name
Concluded
to reaching hands and clutching fingers
through gaps in the ruins
Old bruises and deep scars
not gone, but soothed into forgetfulness
And in spite of ourselves
we continue on a candied path
conquering the longest hall
into nothing
Barely noticing our own use of feet
and seeing much difference
in the beautiful same
Having begun with the end in mind
fulfilling our nightmares
most longed for
and our dreams most feared
Crushing each stone
with bloodied fists
for a single hot breath saying
“To Be”

crush – cara

blunder-stomp
we reach through holes
to find distasted dreams
we grow old and shambled-down
with patched skin
and blooded fists
not knowing our breath
but seeing our difference of being