cul-de-sac

               so I must 

--and we, 

has fallen

                  behind

my hands empty--

I hold, only--the lines

                        on my palms

      the flat light, the wood

siding, straight and fading

and surely-the shadows

were empty, and the velvet

dark, simply the blurring

of lashes--

--surely the world is flat

dull and lined, surely

it must be empty?

                          from rib

to rib

         the echo

launches

                    itself

                    through the dark

    

and far away

the ghosts

        are laughing

        and stamping

                        and the thud

is on my bones

         throw their heads back

here--where the street

ends in houses

the world sprawling

and still

             --don't feel its

own hands

I am perched

on my 

ribs--listening

and slack

                in my skin

this was meant to be a hymn

this was meant to be a drum-beat

this was meant to call

this is nothing

                     but an echo--

the words shriveled

and fell from the pale

and brittle--

        don't say the wind speaks

it whistles and scratches

                              -only.

surely, I am 

full of echoes

                --surely

my words

are shadows--

surely I will not answer again.

flight

I wouldn't call it sweet

           sweet like wind, maybe--

which cuts and cools, and rushes

           it seems love 

has been a flood of purpose

and that the overflow

    pools across my soul

           shame, and joy, and desire--

but no matter-- 

                       I rise, caught

in a higher current

                       they reflect a

   blind fierce flight.

crow

perched on the step
and cawing
with the quicksilver clouds,
sliding across the sky
it would be something--
to flap, cackling
towards the eaves
it would be something
--and no small thing
to roll them across my feathers

drink

         I am lying here under window

in the soft cold

and slowly drinking my memories

           every sweetness, rich and light

every sharp tinge of acid

every deep and oaky

bitterness

and the cool waves

of desire pulse in me

--the cool and clear

all the fermented instants

                           I will stagger

through my days here

graze myself on every moment

                oh you!--shallow, fickle sunlight 

you vapid chirping sparrows

you specious, bustling seconds

you ever-dripping leaves

you bruised and seeping sky!

           --it was real, and it was so.        

what else am I drinking? 

                        what other absence

                                         drives my thirst?

mist

to the mist:

a bank of stars

drifting under the lights

that lands, soft and wet

in my clothes

--and were they dumb

out of pride?

--or because they could only gleam

sharply?

it could be the latter--

they have come down

mute

--but they cluster around me

wetly,

          sparkling

and touch.

do not trouble the sky

you know the answer already

liar

I was a fool

selfish beyond belief--to love beyond your capacity

to reach beyond what you can grasp with a firm hand

love, especially, is a hard-eyed goddess

she appreciates, above all, expertise

I will never lose myself in you again

but will walk with you and in you

heedless and rejoicing

one more bright companion

like the sunbeams--that shoot across your edges

ha!--I will be a liar

you cannot breach the film of my eyes

I love you still

edge

floods me
              the burnt sweetness
courses
       to the tips of my fingers
    I look up
and see a different moon

silent
           the flood-lit
intersection
    and a single truck
  lumbers by
and a single
 wrapper
     wanders in
the gutter

              the wind
under my arms
             rakes
    my hair
the leaves
         rushing
   above me

I stood
      up from the table
and the bare
sidewalk, the rippled sky

the moon smokes
              the clouds
      and the ghost
shakes my veins

each step
             on the gutter

at the edge
      of the world

in me
      a tiny chasm

             the chair
pushed back
      the empty cup
falling
            onto
the table
silvered
           the moon
sharp
           and high
over the
intersection

still
              and coyote
howls, high
         above us

flickers
             between
the leaves
           dances
along the edge
       of the shadows

I see it

still
            the moon
bright
                     over the
asphalt