i am looking

close your eyes.
when you open them, look left,
out the window:

someone has spilled poinsettia leaves and pumpkin peels across the horizon.
I'm sitting next to you, keeping the colors from slipping through my hands

colors tasting of Bahamian sunburned lips and, faintly,
of cranberry juice.

we watch
amazed
as unseen hands pour carrot soup over the horizon
and dunk the world beneath poinsettia skies.

i am looking at air dyed red and orange and coral
i am looking from flight DL1928 to Atlanta
i am looking to be taught why sunsets matter when hearts break and flesh bleeds.

Blood, from a lamb.
spread across
a horizon like it was spread across
door posts in Israel like it flowed
on a roman cross and there shall be no more.

no more blood no more pain no more death

i am looking at a sun as it slips off the edge of the world,
feeling peace, and it fills up my heart
and overflows into the ocean below.