from on stage, plague

memories become pliable
what once held strong
like a bastion on the ramparts
against the waiting tempest wind
shall become victim
to mood, to will
and the venom that floats heavy
and thick in the air

but I will
shape them in these calloused hands
grind them into our silhouettes
bending and folding them
over and over onto themselves,
until these memories
are fired in the kiln
to be crystallized
for time immemorial

this is inevitable, love
and like a statue
our figures will rise
through the sky like a blade,
casting shadows
over the cliffs
and onto the Pacific Ocean