Arm your flowers.

Time beckons through windows, like wind.
Athena's crawling chalkboard and trying to fold letters.
The ones that sit on your desk, unread.
Dust collecting pieces of conversation.
Sticking to the parcel like glue, entwined in the fibers.
The ones in your shirt.
Entranced by the swipe of a pen.
Genocide in a signature.
10,000 troops armed and deployed.
Eros beard is clipped and trimmed.
Cigarettes dancing through straight lips.
They say there is no rain where we are going.
The sun so bright it's radiating like the bombs we drop.
Sparkling, like the shine on your shoes.
Buffed in someones child's blood.