Thrice

so strange i remember you in protest of a prayer
and falling back from seas we fear to sail
i swear i saw the shooter, gold deep and double dare
postmortem warnings seem inclined to fail
feigning an apology
those words they never left your lips
those 5 years in Bermuda slide by like the lights of passing ships
so strange that i remember you
kneeling deep in Nietzsche’s lies
my throat was an open grave i drank your stained glass eyes
and they taste like dead cathedrals
that are crumbling beneath a weight ten thousand jaded tourists
who’ve traded in their hearts and hands for
disposable cameras, set to document decay
set to capture just enough of life to catalogue the things we throw away