The Grim Justice of Light

Each night we soak our skin in salt water dreams

We wear such naked tattered shadows to bed

First light we look and squawk like smiling seaweed

What kind of children were we who see our souls

Entwine their delicate crystal necks desperate

To reach what stratosphere we can never touch?

What buried skies we nearly feel so far from what?

Dromedaries lumber across the desert of our love

Such dry estuaries blow dust to deltas of our love

Such thirsty currents carve these hard archipelagos

Of our love O divine rhetoric of our geometric love

We are nocturnal gods who chew with such taciturn

Indifference the libidinous rhythms and rhymes

Of our love our mouths full of bleeding ravens