Orange Tapestry in the Train Station

Listen; Heaven, Lamb

Pardon the steers; they build a pallor line of anger across the cobblestone bridge. It's been a long time since we hung our legs here and looked down at the river. A sound like rusty joints breaks our ears but we don't stir much – we're afraid of upsetting this moment we occupy. The steers wheeze at the pasty-faced moon, their heavyset horns turned outward like spears. You toss your hair and the frogs orchestrate their gratitude for the gold that trembles over your forehead. The night has a flavor. It tastes like radishes and Kool-Aid. A steer gives us his life and we borrow the gesture of grass.

You scold me for not answering your question. I ask with a smile in my voice what you ask of me. You say, "Lovin' and missin' you." I laugh, "I love and miss you too."