- Vol. 04
- Chapter 07
We Need to Drink the Steam
Your throne is empty despite a sceptre made of aqua, concentric hearts. The world spins – it shakes its head over the vacuum left behind, when compassion went packing.
We white wash the news. We numb the senses with liquid or pill. But you – you are incomparable. Come back. We beckon you, in earnest, for the chance to kneel at your feet – to visit the burning labradorite star left hanging in the sky.
We retreat, and the walls are covered in graffiti. No full cup, spilling with blame, can possibly cleanse this, so we paint with our veins – throw up our arms and dance with eyes closed, just to awaken the other senses.