she would always come home with stories
telling of the origin of time
and she spoke of pleasures as she lay back
begging her spirits to exit,
begging her dreams to exist and multiply
they marveled at the nascent laughter as the
night screamed wildly at the
neon woman lashing out in fear
it’s a civic religion that transforms the evil into the simple
another came in its place
they spoke about a 3-d in mosaic that
they could feel on the walls
they would take it away and keep if for themselves
silent and pure
“dream,”
she whispered in a low voice,
“the music transmission is burning
in between my eyes. her horns are glowing and her
eyes are tearing. so pure.”
they discovered a plaster mask that
reminded them of faces.
he touched it as they preserved a heart in flames
now seated in the gilded chairs
they lean back slightly,
as their eyes rolling back, so fragile
are reflected in the mirrored ceiling
a radio plays softly – memories of a gentle explosion
Peter Marra’s writings explore alienation, addiction, love, secrets, and obsessions. He has had over 200 poems published either in print or online in over 25 journals. Peter's latest published work is approximate lovers (downtown materialaktion) published by Bone Orchard Press:(http://
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