Lavahair

This is what I tell you that we are...
pale spruce hands spreading for the stars
stretched out from their thunderstruck lairs...
We stand haughty flowers against bulldozers
wanting this world flat,
defying roller times that trample with hardened slogans,
our words...
and I tell you nothing but this Lavahair...
Let strumpet souls tread on us!
We are grafted with lightnings!
Inside we grow the seeds that root trees in human chests
like the first day of the Spring
We are the invincible springtide in your unclaimed inside...