words by dominic riccitello

tears with a tune
a swollen eve
the meadow in the distance
to cry when you sleep
i sling with a haze
yellow stricken yesterday
ears shaded
voices caving
a hostile sheen
words which feign
for your soul
before your legs
could take you so far
i used to
twirl beneath the edges
of your soul
carry you for a distance
the sour soaking hurt of a bee
who used to sting my please
burn my arms
to drag whole
we danced atop flowers
with broken ankles
and wickless candles