Bucket Of Tar
and a photograph of us dancing
on the head of a pin
shaped from a cloud already burning away.
I know how angry you are,
that you'd love to pour across my border
and make me care, but
my bridges are mirrors where magpies scry.
I know I said things, we both did,
with knives and roses in our teeth.
I am Eve with an apple in my jaw,
for whom God made highways and the will to survive.
Take the tar
and make your skin warm again.
Travel over yourself to the next natural barrier,
listen to the river and toss the photograph in.
photograph by the amazing Susie Clevenger