We Were Gold

we were gold and brittle
dead birds in the nests overhead
we were churches underwater
horses buried with ancient kings
we walked sideways for Jesus
and didn’t say a thing—
no-one saw the world quite right
except we chosen few

 we wrote scores for foreign movies
no-one would ever film
we burnt light in bowls of rotting fruit
and prayed to the god of mice
we trained telescopes on the horizon
waiting for the sign—
no-one saw the world quite right
except we two

 come back now
come back to days of omens and wait with me
I’ll paint a ring of salt around you
your mouth a crust of delicious pain

Steve Evans

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