Untitled With A Moon
There was a gathering.
Like a story, but not.
And I come out from the invisible;
underlined in dreams.
I think it is better for me to lie down on the floor
and watch the canopy sway, the clouds tinker.
Tomorrow all my words will be
bridges unabridged, bedazzled by the trick
of dawn, things anonymous to anyone.
Desire will return, bounding down the universal lane,
blisters in the air, and forcing my sigh.
I will move not an inch. I will only grow upwards.
Cooled on the water by the moon's breath.
There is only one way down
to your heart, at least, from here.