Light burns deadpan sky, yesterday’s sun evaporates.

Bells sing always for someone; you lie there almost dead

face sculpted from pain. Returning : but I have no flowers.

I dream of sea worlds, saliva, messages. Today holds no hostages.

Every moment perfect to itself,  we exist in the shadows of memory

along a corridor of recognition.

I am full of you, empty of you. When you leave I return to myself

a stranger .