2004-01-05 - 2:53 a.m.
love and fictional hair.
the moon at once arrives at my window.
how those lights ate at me,
dissolved me in smirking smoke.
I walked and made a joke at waking-
not to disturb the mornings hair.
coffee is decisive, air invents vague noises, I return again to the subject of my blood, and the question: are you in it?
the subject of punctuation, the mad drumming of silent heat on my ankles.
turmeric stains fingers yellow, that astringent root that won't grow on my windowsill.
thoughts of you and how warm you would make me
human thoughts, small thoughts, comfort, home, and a skeleton of frozen stars made tame by breakfast and yogurt.
a fierce love we swaddle and coo at, preferring vegetables, heating water for tea.
