Start a Religion

Cool your breath, like orange leaves
the color of fire on the ground
welcome death, a blank tree
tall
and proud
we could plan a wedding or
start a religion, beginning at the end
waiting for a cold embrace
and more sideways glances

from the followers
or guests
reap a harvest that lies
heavy on our chest

we can build a fire
or flirt with death

the exhaust from either
would thrill me

invent new dances
and dreams, set vividly
against the now quickened sunset

orange is the color of my love
and it burns quick but goes down slow
languid is the turn of the earth
I teach in this sordid ritual

spirits are in agreement
but are they guests or will they follow
us into a clouded, cool night?

These are the fallen leaves
autumn leaves behind
the dirt that was once alive
and kind

dance the orange twilight
in seduction turn her black
the robes of broken dreams
and the past season

conjure new ghosts and new demons
we can build a fire
or flirt with death
plan a wedding
or start a religion.