my eyes are swollen red

a blissful tragedy

 

just don't take them away: my friends

are paper thin

thin as

air

 

they spiral and drop and rain and pour and they hurt me so

i can't quit you

i don't want to

I just want you

 

the princes of the page

darlings of the drama

killers in crime

and painters in publications

saints of sagas

manila monsters

triology traitors and

 

Ghosts

My ghosts

 

but now they're your ghosts

because they are in your head

bleeding through your fingertips

inky goddesses

my spiderweb fingers tangled in your warm dewdrops of sunny ecstasy

 

Power.

Without wisdom, bliss

Without ignorance, wonder

 

i cannot live without twenty-six slashes of ink

their children blending seemlessly into a taj mahal of smoke