finale music

a poem

clouds form, 
vacant streets emerge

A caravan of maple seeds twirl in the air, twisting and howling as they land

We meet in the city
Our escape is set, 
we want to run clear to evade the fiefdom repeating itself in front of our dreams

Castles and carriages form the bulk of the imagery that sleep in the ditches of our expired youth

Our palms embrace, the skin, the sodium, the contact, the animated repose, 
and the little time to digest anything that has any kind of thing

Our balance is due in full, and if it is not paid on time, surely someone will die
Because when the bill says the first of the month, you cannot deny it, 
for you are a thief on borrowed time, 

listen carefully and believe what the room speaks

a single icicle hangs on the peak of that mountain you breathe

lions and blister beetles are campaigning an assault on your right to feel mercy 

open the door, and the song of solitude shall run away
run away with the silent e, that claims you to be the true heresy