In this land beyond god’s fingertips
I need a reason to see the sights.
My first love was a volley of wild fireworks
making its mad flight on wings of wax,
to burn and burn and burn and bang
as I watched, licking a formless lump of cotton candy,
letting the flavor of briny tears wake me.

Youth was a grand feast in which I had long ago given up my seat
Instead I trained day after day,
in the way of violent silence,
my calloused heart became too heavy to fly,
my weathered soul too cold to care,
eyes too wide to dream.

His side profile and stiff smile clanged
like a steely ballad without pause,
tuneless with every ugly measure.
Awkward words fled our mouths
as cawing crows from their boughs,
a conversation between wrong people in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Truth’s little hands tug at every seam
every tatter, every thread of this fever dream
so why adorn a lie with a cherry blossom?
Better to let our time settle into the dirt,
dim and die like candles against the gale
rest, rot, and return to the quiet earth.

So heed the advice of old men.
Life is too short for sowing seeds of sorrow
Whomever you meet from the sea shall return to the sea
So let the afterglow bleed into the deep deep dark and snuff itself out.

We all know the only souls led astray are ones who once knew their way
So sing our parting songs and set sail for opposite shores
You cannot piece together the whole ocean from the shards of moonlight it reflects
nor a flower from its plucked petals.
But still I say thank you
for giving back to me a reason to see the sights.