Haven't I seen you somewhere before?
Hanging from a tree or something?
Your face is familiar,
So let's run away.
*
There's something on fire in the distance.
Something wishing it were dead and wanting to die.
But here we are, you and I, and our eyes
Tell stories
That our ancestors wish they had thought of.
Our fingers are electric together,
Pushing through static rib cages,
Forcing life into forgotten hearts.
And we live,
Making emotions out of tanning beds
And chain restaurants.
We walk the night roads with quiet fire,
Both of us alive
With sparks and gasoline.
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