Your shadow, even at dusk
doesn’t amount to much more than a flatline.
Animal darkness staggers through the cinders
of an orange blaze—
falls twisted into a fetal pose.
In the spindly carcass of night,
look up at your hand
look at the lines in it
look at one spot
sinking floating drifting down
you won’t be able to take back
the kiss unleashed upon my mouth
can’t shun the resonant cascade
of murmurs from your visceral debauchery.
You grope for remnants of fire
splashed across an intractable horizon
in the first cold morning ever known.
Demagogue light deceives,
you lie hidden in dawn’s advance
alive in subtle ways
glistening in the hum and gurgle
of a deeper oblivion.
Asensually, I continue testing keys
in blatant claret script;
you’re mentioned briefly in chapter seventeen—
streaming golden moonlight.