Dead Flowers & The Wall (((((())))))

              Squandered, misshapen lilies, broken stemmed, bent green stems stemmed and pedals plucked, from our feet dances amok, grazing on each other’s pools of sightless color, playing games of chance with lashes of laughs, questioning the invisible and intangible truths and fictional anecdotal lovable lies beneath the hard surface of our cranial rock, the porcelain box we find ourselves inside, the windows of the fluid skull we gaze out of and into the others who are imprisoned within their own head, but haven’t we forgot about the mouth, the sinkhole stained with grass and flowers blood and oxygen’s drying veil of pain, wonder -- walking, feet atop sand and glass, millions of dead leaves crushed and perfect, veins dried up, water sucked up, toes aflame -- the brick wall we come to has signs of age and wear, winds breath is hot and salvific, no door or brass knob in sight, I grasp her arm and kiss her cool cheek, I tell her I will lift her up over the wall, watching the words say themselves before my very self, quiet, calm or dead, alive with no air in my mouth, broken teeth, crushed hands, stained skin, I will lift her up over the wall like a propeller of fibrous strength, but the dead cannot lift, what -- I squeeze a pink foot, heave its opposite downward force  upward -- like a leaf she flies, one leg up and over, she has the other dangling in front of my face and it smells like grass and dead flowers, crippled blossoms of seedless flight, flight -- the sun is bright and silhouettes her body,  she succumbs to shadow’s lick, lightly her other leg joins the first and she turns herself around, her neatly joined legs shape her a*s into a fruitful pose, and as I stare in phallic observation, she heaves herself onto the other side of the wall and falls with a thud, expiring exhales and cries of pain issue -- I shout I will be over the wall soon, and try to scramble over the wall but cannot find anything to grab a hold of, no footing or a mouth of brick to stick my toes into, I tell her to climb back over the wall so she can help me over this brick blockade but she laughs, faceless, and says she cannot and I hear the sounds of her footsteps, lightly tap, giggle in rhythm and rhyme in pitch, she laughs and says she simply cannot.