our heaven
is
the color of a lost war
full of lingering thunder
and tears of angry gods
smoke and blood
rising in plumes
burning clouds
over encampments
the stench of death
ashes and whispers of ghosts
filling lungs instead of air
the living grateful
for their remaining limbs
as you speak of sunken confluence river stones
long since
catapulted over the watch tower walls
i built
to keep you from climbing
kafka’s tree
infiltrating me
my better off without you peace
all i keep of you
is an empty box
let’s not get weepy now, darling
we have eaten all the stars