walking on eggshells
on broken glass
barefoot
each sliver covered
in salt
salty
from another
missed opportunity
another missing seance
for the lost soul
of happiness
given a viking funeral
off the shores
of this valhalla
made of matchsticks
and driftwood

a lone tear
trails down
through the cracked
foundation
painting pretty cheeks
a pale color
of indifferent liasions

have you ever seen
the sun set off
surrealistic paintings
of the other side
of whatever mirror
you choose
to occupy
in an effort
to gentrify
the lazy sunday mornings
of brunch
and palpable genocide

purse your lips
as i lean in
to kiss the sin
from your very
sun kissed
sultry soul
to lick the blood
off the souls
of your feet
before a return trip
to the other side