Azalean

Dead moon at the center
Radio on, night
Headlights on the water
Rippling, black, mine
Through to the light, arms interlocked
By the glow of the dial, flickering on and off
And cranes come, eyeless, gripping white-boned blooms of fire
Lake dry by the morning
Head aching, bright red rocks twist
Azalean, given to glass, red
Through to the light, arms interlocked
By the glow of the dial, flickering on and off
And your eyes smile wide even as our car is burning
The moon would not be denied
We burned to coal, our love to coal
To the ground
Through to the light, arms interlocked
By the glow of the dial, flickering on and off