I'm writing now
from the top of the unknown
celebrating this drilling quietness
in which you were able to light
your little vaporous virtue from afar
in my mind
a candle to guard your abscence
I'm thick in this enstragement
repeatedly asking myself
how many ghosts do I need
to mold one of your gestures?
as I dreamt that
your trembling lips
left burned traces
on the neck of life
and I found myself
pushing you harder but
only in my awakening
I'm thick in this recollection
of imaginary wounds like pitfalls
lured by soil's codeine
in numbness I can cast a crown
upon your hidden kind of being
and yet it's like I have known you
since all the beginnings and the ends
there's a spectrum up here
mixed with bustles and us
forgiving our brightest grays
and the melting of a howl
into the squeezed liquor
of every touch
a strange time is keeping you away
whilst I
create
and
cremate
create
and
cremate
you
