red

Pound after pound,

Tar spills

from mouths

that learned tar and not words.

Tar turns

to fire or molten steel.

Pound after pound

sags on its target,

muck and muddy.

It hardens with layers

and time,

pound after pound,

until revelations

crack the steel

Unearth and crumble

with hammer and chisel,

sculpting

a bird of red licks

ready to fly through

fire

And

molten steel.

Candles in the daylight

Candles in the daylight

on a beautiful

mahogany

table

sun shines

through

rich drips of honey

down table legs

and onto oak floors

and filling my ribcage with

warmth

and scent

flicker, flicker

faint little flickers

the artifact

It seems

that

for a

long

while

I searched

for the Artifact

and had all

but

accepted its

nonexistence.

Cynical boy.

But as I turned

away

and closed my eyes,

It found me

alone

afraid

and awfully tired.