We held hands on the last night on earth. Our mouths filled with dust. we kissed in the fields and under trees, screaming like dogs, bleeding dark into the leaves. It was empty on the edge of the town, but we knew everyone floated along the bottom of the river. So we walked through the waste where the road curved into the sea and the shattered seasons lay, and the bitter smell of burning was on you like a disease. In our cancer of passion, you said, "Death is a midnight runner."

The sky had come crashing down like the news of an intimate suicide. We picked up the shards and formed them into shapes of stars that wore like an antique wedding dress. The echoes of the past broke the hearts of the unborn, as the Ferris wheel silently slowed to a stop.A few insects skittered away in hopes of a better pastime. I kissed you at the apex of the maelstrom and asked if you would accompany me in a quick fall; but you made me realize that my ticket wasn't good for two. I rode alone.

You said, "The cinders are falling like snow." There is poetry in despair, and we sang with unrivaled beauty, bitter elegies of savagery and el

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