ATLAS, part 2
restless road rage knots you in asphalt ribbons
tied to sunset suicides––glass shards bleed out
into the next life full of broken blue birds;
trauma begets trauma, inescapable.
you are pre-installed humanity befriending
the false prophets that arose to test you,
to tempt you with licentiousness; condemnation
has not been idle, their destruction did not sleep.
beloved, do not believe the spirit when it whispers:
Your master is long delayed. One will be taken
and one one will be left. these are labor pains
that go as mourning waves of ocean. remember:
your instincts are bathed in your mother’s blood.