Lush Life

The most beautiful hearse I have ever seen
is parked in front of my stoop
Perched hands folded for six to eight weeks
twinkling like a siren a new idea of love

Trees are planted but don’t exist yet
They are leaning non existent into us
A trough of hearts meets me in the anxious sun
I could rot here

Something like the holy spirit
pours you over bruised ice
There isn’t anything more to say than holy
Beautiful men never looking upon me

I take music self-stirred and sleep
alone curve into the morning like an almond
My shoulders lush as romantics
You wash up on a barstool
smooth heartache black sand