Lane Russell

Little Ashes
after the film Little Ashes

I am the half an hour
between no and yes,
a mind made up
in a series of "why not"s

I am the purpled skin
on a shoulder. Desperation
in electric light.

Twenty bricks have fallen,
but still sunset
in Andalusia.

(somethings burn hot in the rain)

Closed in a fist
I am the small treasure
found on an ice cream shop
(sometimes these things get lost)

Electric, a stiff
shoulder curves protectively.
blades recognize refusal
spines recognize hurt
a moth whispers
"I'm sorry"
to an old sweater.
(the stars mumble "Ne me quitte pas" to all things cartoon and small)
(somethings steal souls when they die)

I am the fog catching
on your shoes,
wet and unclear. (somethings forget how to lie)

I am the stony collision
of Nativity and dust.
Little ashes painted one thousand years

revolutions like rebellion
the tiny thunder of
beaten skins, flutter

trapped within a snuff box
miniature replica,
a golden sticker shining
"made in geneva"

hummingbird: hovering, hesitant
a gun in sea-brine fingers.
the sweet-stained uniforms
tailored in the mournings.