Architecture of the Thought

Angels with grease on their halos. Wings made of Teflon. Sauteing each prayer on the lips of the wind. Breaking lifetimes into bite size chapters. Inventing change where there is none.

Sidewalks in the sun cackling with the footsteps of so many people. And the places they've been. Tombstones of yesterday for us to walk upon. Follow the ghosts on their way to so many unenviable heavens as we can create. One word. One person. One year. After the other.

Dominoes on chessboards. Falliing pawns belying the courtship of their kings. Stories in my fingers. Fragrant truths warming in broken ovens. But I can smell them. Just as if all this time had never passed. And every night was as confident as this one is. That we're no different.