of a thing lost.
A greater losing,
like losing a star,
it was small but
the whole sky bereft is huge
The pressure drags behind my eyes,
like calming a dog down
And meadows at night are still,
meadows at night are still meadows.
Somebody showed me a crystal ball
which reflected the world upside down.
And it was beautiful that way,
skewed vision, still a
meadow at night.
I stuffed you with moss
and all at once you were
alight and crackling.
Pull my nightgown above my head
as if it were night itself.
I will reveal the truer shape of things,
I'm only gnawing bones, anyway,
only stitching lacerations,
only cradling bare feet like a broken
one that threw wide the doors
and freed the sacrifice