Adrianne Lenker spilling lilies in the garage

Crossbow downstrokes assigning lightening to the drivers of borrowed sticks
drones leaving the temple to seize wine dimes where there were no tangent cymbals
like pirated heartache on the corners of New York City lanes or drives and hearing
one ear ringing, one ear numb, where the souls did not shoulder the rhythm or sing

Partitioned for one more myth-ridden red heart like lighthouses bottoming out tonight
we were once a path of strangers like engineers in the driveway of a yawning parlor
before the noted inscription that left us starting at the sky in the same place like God
if it were not that I have not seen the night sky in months queued on tranquilizing noises