watched the wind
read the fields
each blade of grass
a word
heart a grate
full with ash
carried out
to the garden
on a warm
windy night
curtains need the breeze
to touch the room
a little more
the scars from our dreams
sew us together
you’re the last light of the year
the late light of the day
that touches the old fire
that still clings to the tips of the trees
in my haunted park
to know light from my pages
reflected into your face
sunk into the sea glass of your eyes
to know light from your face
snowed blossom into the dark
of my words
a candle burned
flame sunk
into the column
of its body
tears viscous
with lives lost
cum cloudy
with ghosts
of lives
never lived
my heart
more cave and cavity now
waiting for the collapse
star charts
blueprints
for starlings
smoke splices its tongue
more surface area
to taste the dark
a blizzard of butterflies
words brighter
than the paper
they scar
don’t know how
to write about you anymore
I’ll let silence sing
scars like lips sewn shut
kiss without tongue