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.