Alt / red.

What cultured me
Never altered me
As much as altar burns to the third degree
(The vulture.
 The death bed road trips.
 And those who simply lost interest).

So She.
She drew Her rod and caste me off a bolt of lightning toward the stars
Never thinking once
I'd take the chance and swim the surface of the sun and swallow its rays
With unhinged jaws like that of a Great White that hasn't fed for days.

And She.
She was the fisherman.
And the fish.  It was Her game.
And me?
I was just a minnow caught somewhere
Between Sea.sun and Air
Undetermined (for only a minute) without reason and
Drowning in deferred dreams.
Baited
With slit gills bleeding to keep free thought submerged and
Suffocated.

So She.
She smelled the blood I bathed in
Rushed in for the kill
As I took what I thought was one last breath
But for every bit (she detached from me) and devoured
I couldn't help but yield a sunflare smile and feel my heart beat Star Bursts
Murdering shadows and
Filling my lungs with a cosmic breeze
So calm, luke warm and satisfying
That I almost didnt want to ....sigh.... release it from my breast.

And Me.
The heat within me was too much for Her to risk.
It seared the ribs from my chest as ash fluttering like snow flakes in a snow globe
Wind blown
To the top to cover and cap mountains like coke for this Lightning Rod God to snort.
Eyelash like razor
My sky Her mirror
Reflecting back the oceans behind my eyelids
But it's the motions of my dilate that changes tides.

And This.
This is a changing tide
Of varied tears
I kissed (them / all) along the way.
This is your good bye.

I had almost forgotten what those words tasted like
So when I told you I bit through my jaw bone to swallow the marrow and better remember for a tomorrow when...
...my memory fails me yet again.

But Today.
Today, the good bye, though, despite the relief in
Ash, dust
Ashes to dust
Just once, Just once
I want the satisfaction of hanging up

Not hanging on.