I try to think the way you do,
to forget the way you do--
My mind murmurs with every

Forgive me but I'm
trembling for the morning.
The night still burns me:
Every night, the yard, the stars--
every tree fully heightened,
fully dead.

Where is my dog? Where are my brothers, my sisters,
my parents, my friends?

A lust for home pushes me back
into the delicate place I've built here.
I want to sleep in the past but I believe
this living is gesture.



I'll never be able to share
what I just saw.
The red light was blazing.
It was an act of murder
trembling as it crushed out
the sky.
I need a reflection and one minute
of your hand resting gently
on my shoulder, warming my failures
into an advertisement.
At the outskirts of the city,
I step on the gas faster and faster
until my life is merely links--
a translucent house
where love stands expressed.


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