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A DAYTIME DEVIL
THE CLOCK IS TICKING


INFO OPEN PLAYLIST CODE		By the third lover, she had peeled so much skin she became a woman who could walk on blood. She meant nothing to me. She is a house of red. A holy assemblage. A city of nerve & dirt. nothing to me her skin survived every summer. I don’t want you to leave she spoke to the jars. I want you to live like a city that never rises live here cigarettes here aimed at god. No evidence of life after death so she left that skin for good. Years later, she will remem- ber the sound of her wife’s tires flexing against mud, the sound of stolen glass jars ringing after her. By the third lover, she could finally walk on blood, but even the saint had gone looking for more skin.

IN SEARCH OF A DIFFERENT ENDING

i formed a body suspended in utterance