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 .