‘Sorry about the blood in your mouth. I wish it was mine.’ ~Richard Siken, Crush
A Thousand Crows
A Thousand Crows
By: Akhilesh Agarwal
Imagine a thousand crows coming at you with a vengeance
Imagine your lover’s lips sewn shut, the needle belongs to you
Imagine a bridge, the water beneath red, the sky above red
Imagine a sword in a movie coming out of the screen and cutting you open
These are all the things I imagined when I looked at your fingers
Hooking themselves in his neck, I hate the term lovers
Makes it sound like sex, makes it sound like a blasphemy
Makes it sound like everything I don’t want the two of you to be
Throw open a window, we have to look at the sky again
If fates are written in stars, I wonder if mine is dead
I have come to realize this, faith is like a crow
Imagine it to be anything but black as sin.
Imagine a thousand crows coming at you with a vengeance
Imagine your lover’s lips sewn shut, the needle belongs to you
Imagine a bridge, the water beneath red, the sky above red
Imagine a sword in a movie coming out of the screen and cutting you open
These are all the things I imagined when I looked at your fingers
Hooking themselves in his neck, I hate the term lovers
Makes it sound like sex, makes it sound like a blasphemy
Makes it sound like everything I don’t want the two of you to be
Throw open a window, we have to look at the sky again
If fates are written in stars, I wonder if mine is dead
I have come to realize this, faith is like a crow
Imagine it to be anything but black as sin.
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