urban poem # 1

sugar
we are
open like summer
you are
incandescent in my mouth
folded inside
where
steam escapes
from
the
molecular faults
in our tongues
as we broil on the
desert flame
of form and content
our language fails us
and falls into
breath
at once
resuscitates
and destroyed
where red is no longer
a color
but flesh
twisted into galaxies
of smoke
and teeth
our
fingers vulcanoes
stretching
inside of our
tower of mutated
freedom
you are
liquid sepia valleys
of real engineered
pyramids
and fonts
here we are
a
fossilized
dung of
protein
an architecture of
war
weeds tinctured
in our soil
we rise like
cornbread
we exist
in quasi- death
rushing over
the cliff
of
this deadly dance
of the holy
male female
search for
oneness