The City of The Caesars

Hand on heart and clothes on floor
The birds are wasting time flying to the sun
We are the magic men laying on this bed
Planning our triumphs and parades of glory
We write our names on one another's chests
In the white potion of men, our ancestors, our gods
We hear the voices of the crowd full of wilderness
I suck your breath and let it go into the night
We will forget this city, we will build our own
Resurrecting the songs of dead mothers
Melting the gold wedding bands of dead soldiers
We will fly the flag of The City of the Caesars
The dogs in the street fight over bones of chalk
Old ladies reach for door handles wishing they could fly
I lean across your naked chest
Forcing cigarette smoke to fall towards the sky
We dissolve into shifting space
I can hear the resolve of our energy shake
Travel will take us across dead land and bending mountain
But first we kiss with wet lips and free names
We will build our boat as the sun and sand is blown into our hair
Reaching for some different heaven
Sailing it through the breaking ice and the schools of silver
To the edge or Earth where we will find that City of the Caesars
How long will this prayer go?
How long will the flag fly?
I fear nothing but surviving the stab of departure
And seeing the butterflies of music sail without you
I am here, naked in my room, waiting
Thinking of your sweet hands and fingers
Have they built that City of the Caesars yet?
That city for you, for I and those strange, grey water birds.