Eyes See What I See
Lips Who Am I?
Ear Find My Work
What’s Your Mood? What’s Your Mood?
CONNECT Talk to Me
Neighbor

 

 

Self-contained lately they say, but I, I

find small talk unflattering to the broken heart.

 

Like the freckles that litter your nose, I don’t know

where this conversation should begin.

 

Instead I glare at the sky with my palms outstretched to wrestle

their remaining faces free of the sunlight,

but suddenly one shifts and there’s nothing more I can see.

 

Everything is just a bright white light fading quickly, like the mad sun in winter.

 

 

*

 

The breeze stops blowing,

it says its directionless, but

I believe it was the crows that ate it;

 

cut it, chewed it, cannibalized it.

 

The walls of my house carried their caws

to my bed one night and

while supervising the darkness

I saw a murder

inhale a charcoal puff

and declare its completion.

 

In the morning

they took away my senses.

 

 

 

*

 

I can see with my eyes closed

the porch light stirring,

 

but Consolation

may never come

home again.

 

The weather tells me neither will you.