tell the prophet to come
the skyscraper burns as the children fall into
evanescent desire
deeply embedded
deeply embedded so long as I keep writing

so long to you as your journey for
thousands of years, through worlds of time
complacent set in stone
withered to the ocean while man
evolved into religion, and while religion
built its stars and demanded the Rights to Heaven

but there is none

only empty hope, believing in living
after we’re supposed to be done living
and painting a wrangling image on a canvas projected
to all corners of the Earth

head me home with shoes to remove
and bed as a keepsake to nocturnal indulgence
but let me roam freely
through my dreams
let me save, let me love, or perish
in the dreams that I’ve foreseen for dreaming

perception is a fingerprint