cop car bonfire

we share the siren like a strawberry,
the sweet guts in our hands. ripened in the
wordy sun. we circle the carcass
of a star. all the streets have gone licorice 
in the fire. even the forest burns her brush. 
sighs & lays wide open in the ashes.
this is what i want for us. for the other side
to be something softer. all the metal 
turned to flesh. walking in the early hours 
on a vigil. we keep watch for the wire men.
tell them, "this is not a place for capture.
this is where we run away to." i know there
is no such thing as a utopia. i am not talking
about that. i'm talking about breathing. about
living inside a whale. i'm talking about
not trying to fix what has always been broken.
i'm talking about building a fresh mouth. an open
house. the old way to hold on to one another.
the tires we will use for swings. the headlights,
for the eyes of our mother statues. shoes in 
a heaven pile. feet like wings, beating towards
the sky's throw blanket. the heat from
the fire, like a pile of breast bones. he we always were.
all the guns drowned in a lake. the sea monsters 
swallowing the bullets to turn them into pearls.
i know i am telling you stories. let me please
just tell you stories. if we tell them to each other
for long enough, they will start to grow lungs.
start screaming at us from the nighttime trees
along with the other bugs hunger for summer.