that throne of night
that river of sinuous stars
that opening in the twilight that has never let me sleep
that nest that flew off the wing that’s flown the coop
that space inside space
that last breath and not a priest in sight
that night that cooed like breasts
that desired thought without semblance or symmetry
that falling boy that often dreams
   and I am not in one of them
that statue that one day had brushed against me
   seems to have vanished, gone around the world
that will to disappear that has always lived in the darkness of human presence
that secret awareness of everything that is displayed
   where the heart suffers what the eye can't heal
that terrible sound reduced to the smallest of men
   until it is no longer heard
that flame that a moment ago was imperceptible
   that has taken the house to ruins
that talk of the cinders that is a miracle over silence
that traveling trollop asking directions of those ridiculous children
   is a prison of sky in their loins
that an hour ago I shared my love with some haunted passerby
   without having chosen the time and place
that a year ago on a moments notice my train departed
   and left a black cloak of smoke around the stations of my heart
that a lifetime ago I drew myself down winding paths that were not complete
only to arrive at this day,
this hour.