A Midnight Ritual

I disregard the truth
And circle stones set in mud.
I sling forward salt and dangle
Wolf teeth above a flaming fire.

I count heads and taunt nature
With my imperfect measure of carnations.
I flicker forth the dunes of mount efficacy
And drown flowers in a pot of spice.

And hearts grind together like
Meat factories in mechanized default modes.
Spilling guts we slave for love
Like we're unafraid of the sharp pain.

I rehearse the words that force fate
And confuse the mind in delicate ways.
But the moon and stars see all the wicked
That I avoid to cross the bridge.

And so I make my rose tiaras
And I dance around the graves that
Embrace time's stillness in ways
That keep me close to you.

And no spell or crazy ritual
Will bring the soul into the flesh
That now rots six feet beneath me
Awaiting my turn.