Arrowheads or Worse

New aura of sonic flora
and that corrected set of gap teeth
that allow me to sing less dissonantly

And I would swallow arrowheads or worse
to demonstrate my empathy for how it must have felt for you
to watch me at the altar once again,
repeating vows through slanted mouths
as all my life, I've alchemized your grief

Ephemera of desert light!
I was grown when I was five,
blooming in unqualified defiance of my youth
Like seven times of seventy,
the chariots are deafening
and swinging low as I am thumbing rides
to take the fire I have been prescribed

The spiders are in the fallow.
My mother's listless
but child me, with sugar cereal, ignores her warnings

Why couldn't we with ink the oceans fill?
The sun rescinds its offer of celestial hallucination
and we (the prone to melancholy)
will hear the rooster crow and we will know exactly how we've made you feel.

Ephemera of desert light!
I was grown when I was five,
blooming in unqualified defiance of my youth
Like seven times of seventy,
the chariots are deafening
and swinging low as I am thumbing rides

You are where I will go when I die