georgia
in ten years the world will be mine
and we will be watching the sky open over a small town in georgia
watching the sky open and seethe over fruit trees
and i will be clean and perfect and empty as ash.
we will lie under the fruit trees
yellow juices sticking to our faces
yellow grasses sticking to our feet
i will trace the shapes of the disintegrating clouds
and tell you why they love me;
i will trace your collarbones with a live oak leaf
and tell you why you love me.
in ten years the world will be mine
the world will be mine, and i will be perfect
and i will be lying under fruit trees in a small broken town.