There are times when darkness lies forgotten upon my skin
hollowed & broken
knowing there is starlight but feeling the microfiber of
grey rub annoyingly
wind moves things unseen and forgotten
as i merely notice & refuse to open
box of paints
eyes close & songs are heard
again dove-grey & faint & haunting . . .
the crackle of dreams & place
glory & knowledge find the honey-ed bleed of this night
shutter in their brillinat sureness
soon . . .