insects on a windshield

i see no city

nothing stretches before me
only the reflections of yellow highway lines
in headlights
rushing past my image in the dull glass

and the dimness of dashboard lights
cast upon the eeriness of your face
(like a green halo)
reminds me of

the shimmering distance
that connects between our silences
and the pulsing glow on the horizon
cannot shorten the breath
in between these spaces

and even if i could still love you
the destination would never equal
the sum of where we came from

a disturbed resurrection

she believed in Elvis
much more than she believed in god

even as the snake-charming priest
convinced her that virginity was a sin
in the back of a black van
with one broken headlight
on a summers night so hot
that even the walls had begun to sweat

the two big bays
(Mr. Henderson's prize mares)
stood in slow witness at the edge of the field
she could hear their soft throated calls
whispering to each other
as the priest attempted to split her open

as if feeling her insides was a punishment
for the fall from Paradise
and the sins of Eve

when it was all over
when she had stood up and smoothed her dress to her knees
and started her awkward march back home
under an indifferent moon

she let her thoughts turn South and drift
to the holy burning seat of Graceland

the lie in blue eyes

i remember your cruelty
washed in ignorance
i remember being neither dead
nor dieing
but folding under the weight
of your blue eyes

your sweet blue eyed treachery

here i made my home

and returned to it again and again
only to find the doors locked
and the windows dark
smudged deep with your fingerprints

if i can remember your cruelty
if i can remember your ignorance

o' god why am i here again?

Gone

i knew
my childhood
had ended

when i
no longer
believed
that anyone
would die
for my love