i don't ever want to scratch the surface of the comprehensive history of lovers. even when, in the night, i turned toward the window and saw the ghost of
her all in blue, my great grandmother

i knew that she didn't belong and that all must lie after a time
so tired

sleep is what we all have to do, i said to you
you agreed it was true. you were glad it was true

and it all made me glad for you,
so i sit frightened now.

these days i speak a different tongue, i want to sew myself into the hems of silence,
blow my warmth and my wishes into stones;

i never had a tiger's eye til yesterday. this tiger's eye my mouth: now i need to crush it small, pulverize it to dust to set drifting in my blood, i will be strong

summer solstice come and gone yet only just begun. and i must let that wrap me in its long arms, and i must let that make me feel i have a friend

that there is still the best thing left, the only thing
still time. fibrous and foliated and sometimes, on a good day
merciful