making by spending
time and money and desire
until there is none
making by spending
time and money and desire
until there is none
in dark recesses—
flame moves every animal
and urge
opening and
closing day—the sore hinges
of books and bones
your face—
there—like waking in an
unfamiliar room
clocks of sunlight
and shadow striking at
severe angles
green and red—like red
and blue—colors otherwise
antagonistic
you ghost creature
lurking near—your breath sweet,
familiar, and lost
memory’s depths
so dark—rivers of sea life
ever feeding
something
awaits that time and the mind
won’t grasp
and so ribs—
like minnows—come swimming
to the surface