“bleeding knife”

I hear you whisper three times against the dark

catch a piece of photography from your hands

strangers listening to the screams across the floor

(when we watch them disappear behind secondary reflections)

a new aspect without control of our senses 

shout the hidden secrets to a lifeguard waiting to be saved

(if we could disappear before their eyes)

burn a new meaning through your skin

(press this reflection before we choose to make sense)

scatter the paper flowers across the maddening forecast

break the bleeding knife through the mirror

dance across the blue and green fields of lost memories