Dixie

her idle drabs of song
can't mask the words that
evaporate indefinitely
from your mouth;
and when you speak,
and when you speak- 

The light will shatter
into the figures of our lives,
fragmented with the soul of one,
the ones who were lost on the road
in selfish need for something
other than relentless loneliness.

But the drips from these eyelashes
paint the room black,
as we sink into the bottom pit 
of singular distraction,

I tell you I will be there,
I can't tell you how I will be there.

Another long winded road,
Billie with her eyelashes,
singing in the background,
soothing the concrete,
for when our bodies hit the ground,
drowning in our own mortality,