109 – Mirrors

Children playing
Under a blood-red sky.
The scent of burning
In the morning air.

Broken mirrors
Made of ice
And memories,
No two shards ever alike.

Restless nights
And rough awakenings,
Tasting whiskey
And regret.

Jumping around the cosmos
Like some training space cadet,
From the comfort of
Chemical cocktails.

Naked flesh, armored hearts,
Fast food one night passion.
Smell of sex and motor oil,
Mixing in a dirty shack.

Never looking back,
Or ahead, for that matter.
A fully honest mess,
Always in the here and now.

Rocking all the way
To hell and back,
On red wings
And dirty wheels.

• • •

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