Our hearts were stained
green and brown like
corroded copper, left
out against the storm.
Love fades into something
symbolic of a memory,
a lady holding a torch
to illuminate a time when
her warm ruddy skin
meant freedom and liberty.
But we are the children
of cynicism and we don’t
believe in symbols, we don’t
believe in words; words
carry truth, and we carry
irony in our hands with
our corroded copper hearts,
wrapped around the
bloody pulsing of our
lives lost in the reflection
of smoke on the Hudson.
Because we let our love
oxidize green and brown,
and we watched our minds
collapse with twisted
steel, melted down by
jet fuel fires. And we said
“it’s just a sign of the times.” 

12:41 pm  •  14 September 2012