lamps wore away
at the dark
light a candle
with me
all night
we’ll watch
the lowering
of the flag
of its flame
you’re the green fronds of fire
that grouts the cobbled back streets of my heart
the bright butterflies still being born
from the braided shadows of brambles
blossom become sentient
the hinges of your heart
sprinkles rust like pollen
as the dark wind of your blood
squeezes through its doors
left ajar
you were the wren
that led me
through the reeds
that stroked my sides
feathered my face
daylight crashes
against the skylight
woodsmoke laces the air
with the cream
of its song
the scars from our dreams
sew us together
the seabed still remembers
sunlight upon its skin
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
sky packed too tight
bruised blue
needs to split itself open
thunder the wedge
hammered into the heart
of the stone
of the sky
caves will call
to the sky
sky will become
ceiling
scars like lips sewn shut
kiss without tongue
glass the gatekeeper
asks the sky
if they’re on the list
my heart
more cave and cavity now
waiting for the collapse