The hours were white like
a smile and my retinas
reflected only the emission
of your own, and you smeared
the garbage in neon, the
rising ceiling without exertion
My needs were folded, neatly,
and stowed, and I lingered
in the ruins, shuffled and
answered yes, I was honest
in treason as each breath of
the percussive stars quickened
I could not produce joy nor
efface the emerging
sorrow, the darkness was
artificial, the light knocking
on the blinds and we were
changed by our mightiness
As I drifted, my mind lay in the
shower, the moment swollen in
misery, saturated in your
monologue, and I fastened my
shoes as the undulating sun
called out and shook us
Even now the pillar of anxiety
looms large, time is a pressing
want, your greatness drowns
my insignificant hands and my
folded needs have come undone
27 June 2010
