The Call

In the middle of night I called her.
In the middle of the nightmare of daylight
l called her.

Facing off the icy eyes of
the efflorescing smile's firing squad,
I called her.

In the contracting space between brick walls,
through the window of my melancholy
to the streets of an abysmal loneliness,
I called her.

In the grey eyes of the withered widows
like a sagging sunflower
in gloaming dusk
I called her.

Only in your eyes I found her.
Only in your eyes she answered,
when she
was gone.