you and me we're through the other
side of this long sickness and this
sick longing for things we could
not have
lovers i could not hold
goals that were borrowed from my
mother and stolen for my father
i can't follow that old line
of thinking that went the
same like day follows the night
and dimmed every light
and ever decent reason
here, in the smoke darkness, bugs settling on
my skin
we are the voodoo season
and what comes next i don't know