No matter how submissive the night is,
I will originate a succession...
The ghosts of my thoughts and the shades
of the day tell me destiny is a lady...
I can hardly stand to watch, most mornings,
her buttering crispy-black toast, scraping off...
I have spent a whole night and day
to write one verse of perfect rhyme...
Write me like a poem
that the world will read...
How trite it would taste
if I begin to paint you in blue and white...
Pieces of "her" linger
nested in the beams of this house...
I guess, to you, I'll always harbor
shadows of kohl and light trails...
I will see this through
because the idea of you still shocks my spine...
You are such strange fruit, oblong and fuzzy
with a purple belly and...
Among the stars on the sapphire sky we live...
yet far away from your sweltering touch I am...
Astute and aware, he stood
glaring at the morning sun, like...