seeds on the end

with the butt of the gun pushing into my shoulder like a dream come true I sprayed bullets into the wall and plaster came apart and revealed the stones underneath. breathe in that dust as the birds fly away.

I promise that I wouldn't tell anyone that if right now you chose to fly into this room and I would take no photos of it too. reality remains a dream when we don't reveal its existence to anyone. extended wing and one legged dance, curving back with arms in the air, stone forms carved by the forgotten, cool flesh inscribed with graffiti, proof that real life captured somebody, it could be the last wishes of one unaware.

this photograph taken by plane reveals your hiding spot and soon I can hide there too (gun pushing into my shoulder). the protector of destroyers can smoke cigarettes at night and only inhale stars. an animal's yellow eyes look at us from the dark, wide eyed, alert and lucid. I won't move first if you don't move too. fly into my room and we won't show anyone. you can land on me and inspect me with your beak.

this is the last one I have to show you, its here on my computer's screen, the only thing illuminating our room, I took time crafting it before I felt like this and my fingers cannot mold the clay like that again. but like in a dream I will migrate to an abandoned construction site filled with pools of water that reflect yellow moons.
long grass with seeds on the end grow there.