Distillate

Something burning iridescent and wet
Clean and disinfect what memory is left
Angel hair, spaghetti, skeleton, ketchup, baby's breath
The long hot summer of sweat
Sickness and discontent
Made glorious autumn again

Made glorious golden biting burning autumn
When your tears of joy are the only holy water yet
And I could have sworn that I'd been here before and I was right
I locked myself alone in this toilet stall one night