Salt and Sorrow

Salt and Sorrow

I breathe a breath of Babylon
In polyglot phantom, prophecies come
The blood and bone of kings
And all the men who fed their dreams
Would still fertilize the soil
Were there an ounce of water left
That was not tears

So sing
a dirge for love
for the child who should be rocked, not stoned
Better the land be sown with salt
Than to leave it without teeth to smile

the air itself baked grey
dust still settling
On skulls
never noticed

Tomorrow

I will spend what time I have left
learning how to fall
without asking the ground
to forgive me