i don’t know how to sleep,
it hurts being awake.
the soft lamp’s buzz,
the trees blowing away.
it hurts — a little — hurts again,
a bullet in the throat.
i don’t know anything.
it hurts to know.
one of the violets dances
on the windowsill.
it rots — in me — advanced decay,
a dried up fruit.
no bone,
no seed.
the endless sea.
astray,
i go
to someday grow
again,
your eyes —
so many miles
to creep,
go down
and see the one.
the blue space of my table light,
the homeless moon, a better friend,
kiss my forehead at hollow nights,
whisper when we reach the end.
serenading the stars, singing
laments. sending wasteful loves
every way.
everything is May, sea
pearls are shining in my ears,
i am not shedding any tears, and in eternal
night, an eastern
goddess of the ancient world appears.