Sunday* had soul
Jazz flew out from the windows
The sidewalks eyed each other
From across the dance floor,
Monday felt heavy
All the violins awoke from their slumber
The leaves jumped off the branches
And let the wind take away their wishes
Tuesday bloomed
Daisies reached from between the cracks
Gardens broke free of the fences
The birds whispered songs to the petals
Wednesday brought God
Nestled between pressed together palms
Looking to the sky for answers
The black of the night held so much silence

When you speak aloud,
Fire your words as nameless bullets.
Without a face or destination,
simply burning through the air
in search of a target

On the night before spring,
All the windows were open,
Curtains billowed with february
waiting for the sound of morning
to trap itself inside

When the soil was ready,
we ran across the lawn
searching for salamanders
to catch with cages of fingers,
Gawking at the zoo in our palms
hoping that we too could bathe
in the moonlight and sleep on the stars

All those who fought with silence,
Used their words instead of violence,
Tattooed scriptures upon their thighs
Battled the lows with ballpoint highs,
Burn away the fracture pieces,
Iron on the tainted creases,
This purging was our way of survival,
Poet's own parables a secondhand bible,
This was love, this was hate, this was rage,
This was anything we could confess in midnight haze,
Dream out loud all you silent eyed fiends,
For this was nothing but the fuel of the machine

The driveway curved and bent,
A stream of black asphalt
made its way toward the doorstep,
Sundays were always the warmest,
chalk marked the pavement
The neighbors conversed from windows
about the new girl down the road,
Cages for backyards
held the gardens for ransom,
Explosions in the sky
colored the black of the night
Just like the chalk on the pavement