Till We Part

If sleep is good then
death is better. Years
of light and daffodils defy
the fate of human nature-

unreachable peace, to lie
perfectly still in darkness.

To be: the laws of physics,
nothing wasted, disappeared.

Despite sympathies & anguish
true to form, today someone will
wake up missing, fail this world

interminably broken.

Objects That Appear Real

The disguise is there to fool
the non-believers; those who
buy cigarettes instead of food,
who curse in place of prayer,

the dark exceptions to the rule.

The mouth, perceiving sweetness,
though bitter seeds poison those
who eat them, sweats for more.

The rest, a plausible distinction
between bright light, its seeming
weightlessness- the question being

are magic tricks reliable?

On quiet nights, shadows of
the spotted moth move across
a window, the size of birds.

Whose Dark Home is This?

Open the door: I want to see
why. How can I change what
I've not known?

Beatiful animal clawing wood,
whimpering: what are you
asking for?

Why can't we be sad
without knowing?

The Damaging Darkness

Exquisite, the relationship of God
and those who suffer; the loss of beauty
haunts the collector of dark things.

I told you several times don't go
there, my blind lover, my shadowed
sorrowful child. If blood is life,

the darkness, a place of sacrifice
and resurrection. I'm ready now
to move my mouth in prayer-

a silent, secret heart attack.

Queens of Night

I know you've been late
all of your life. You've had
good reason. The ends of vines
grow slowly together- arranged
lovers on their first night.

Accurately pieces fit together;
you should be satisfied. In the wild,
fulfillment comes at a greater price-
ask the bat or moth who feed on
trumpet queens of night, then die.

Better stayed the royal feast
than sweet forever.

What We Hold

It's been there awhile,
the half filled hole,

carefully carved insinuating
purpose, a handless glove.

How perfectly it holds
in its velvet curves, silence-

a cushion, a muzzle, space
in folds of a mouthless cloth.

Strange, its patience
mimics the heart as it

waits for something,
anything at all.