1987

it’s always like this
molly cat-eyes
faerie queene
pops through time & back into life
language to describe us
entangled in artpunk
& we know each other still
mystery strings sneaking past the moon
pennywhistle silly
& nevermind the cloak of murderous desire

strolling through the falling stars
an aftermath
smooth as honey
clueless as sand
drawn together by the thin white duke & his glass spiders
& from the moon we look
unbound by that spin
more magical than anyone truly deserves

maybe it’s we that connects us awkward teens
chancing after dusty windows
how we arrived here with all these years
these fleeting golden years
pain we don’t talk as the labyrinth
down in the underground of dreams
waving back when we were
a connection so strong
binding through time then
but there was of youth
when we knew each still conversation
slips & dances

no back
back
back in the bright-tiled day
all our magic is
we never a painted clown
& a puckish entangled in black
& pretty in mars
“do you consider yourself openminded?”