AFTER APOCALYPSE SNACK
… awake now
a little disoriented
Something crunchy perhaps –
a Nevada snow shadow
it melts in your warmth to provide water in the sun
a brittle idea
half-baked, more fragile than burnt.
What about something sweet –
a tongue piercing
it plays strength on nerve to declare consummation
a subtle longing
swelled, gilt pain to pleasure.
Perhaps something cleansing –
a climb atop wreckage
it strips you of assumption and pretense, clinging to exhilaration
a defiant stance
compelled, a gaze averted now looking down.
Maybe a bit of salt -
a high desert road
it stretches into the horizon covered in hope and blood
a disparate sacrifice
offered, noted for its frequency.
Really, something hearty –
it excuses nothing to free everyone
a slippery gift
flowing, sacred flames licking us alive