M-U-R-D-E-R

isn’t that what you’re afraid of a star shoots across the sky the miracle of bloom unanswered near a wishing well the heart sleeps it sunburns the men above a strawberry field a vanquishing what the heart does is surrender she wrote on saturday when the pawnshop re-opened and her anklets stuffed animals board games burst follicles were in hock debt and the heart is a bike ride against the wind they locked you outside the house in a cheap white nightgown the overturned car was filling with leaves when she said this wind eats everything his fantasy was to see blue-black feathers lift from church spires like songs of escape