Twist my tongue with your arms of smoke,
The clouds now erupting from
Mountains on fire,
Bruising the innocent air,
With a harsh grey choir.
Throw my heart to the soot-stained floor,
Lungs collapsing even before
I can waltz,
Scaling the mountains I fantasized,
As a child knee-deep in schmaltz.
Then spit out those mint dreams,
And light up another
As the moon lingers meek,
The night choking, broken,
Crying stars down purple cheeks.