Grey Matter (Revised)

There is a stem
from which we all follow
in broken booths and vacant dispositions
like a parking lot or a thought meter
disrupting a hollow downtown development index
where you were a patient

And I attested to the wings of fallen change
dispelling like the od bent possession
with willows that danced in the driveway
and distilled our salty sailing promises
immured and forever glossy like sand that sparks
pulled and ashen from the vacant parking meter

Work to hold our possessions
it was, after all, the fruit from Eden
that gave us the power of possession
it was that trick that danced
in the empty, coarse moonlight

Where we kissed and disposed
of our entire entry
like the stem of our thoughts
where we all shared the mutual crowning
of our deliverance, we shine not

Like the stolen dreams from change and vacancy
and withered enamored witnesses laughing
not witnesses conjured or injunction sledges
instead salty soldiers with stemmed perfume
where we can perform saturated castings
the grey matter that unfolds between us
deliberate as with stones against the house