everything exists in a mirror
a big shiny pond of nothing and everything
when you raise your hand i am watching your wrist
and its composite water waves wrist
move in a slow descending arc.
you are an image of descent
sliding across blue sheen, an image
of caresses creased in history and space.
i tie your wrists behind your back
with coarse dark twine so that i will never
never see you take that swing
because all surprises are much easier
when you do not see them coming.

the first shooting star i ever saw
was like peace arcing over my shrieking
aching moaning bleeding body.
a bright white burning that saw everything
and took nothing when it went.

in another world we fight nothing,
wade against no overpowering tides.
in this world we are buffered by immobile emotions,
anger and depth crawling inside of our skins
crawling up our spines so that the only option we have left
is the drastic, raging decisions that rake
bright stars out of the blue sky.

the need to forgive you is not so strong.
the need to sleep is waning in favor of a
distinct ennui, a dark blue wave of cold.