...she looks like an angel

Stars are scattered
as if they’ve long been lying
in a dark wilderness
hidden as if in the chest
I left them there
and here — ghosts in the street
ghosts making love
in the overgrown cemetery

I wear green sneakers
and a black fleece
hands hidden in my pockets
I look like a homeless man —
a heart and a violet
under the hood

this is who I was
amid the streams of wind
that groped my skull
in the middle of a night black
like a black Oceanid

stars execute words
like guillotines
so they have no names
these stars hidden in dark wilderness
hidden in the chest

and one uncovered
like water in the palms
of course, my son
she looks like an angel