i wanted to capture that moment in time
like a black and white moving polaroid,
complete with sounds
and smells
and feelings.
i wanted to hang it
on my bedroom wall
and revisit it whenever
i felt lonely
or sad.
i wanted to reach through
the photo paper
and jump back in
and relive the moment
where i was most happy.
but i can't do that.
you are gone.
you have been gone
for so long now
and nothing can take away
the longing in my heart.
you are gone.

Our house is a black box.
We drape every window

but one, a pinhole
to capture the sun.

At night our eyes go dark as ink.
Our memories marbleize at
the edge of the bedroom.

Come morning,
we are nothing

but inverted images
fed by shared light.

You tell me to smile
and I braid your hair.

Upstairs, the children
develop like ghosts.

I put on another record
and the dark disc spins,

its needle lulled
into grooves the way
you are lulled into me.

We could almost dance together,
but the couple at the window

will not move until
we come into focus.

Time is a witness
to the mark of the moth
in my hair, and I swear
the nights are getting longer

I keep putting it off
hoping I would discover
a star no one knew was there

and I can only wonder why
the bluebirds die
on the power lines singing

if god had a heart
he'd take me instead
and put a thirty ought six
straight through my chest

just for believing
that somewhere there's a nest
with my name on it.

we fly
through dead streets,
dancing in darkness.

we laugh
under broken street lamps
singing a ***** tune

I glance
at his eyes and shiver - my heart!
flashing like fireworks

we make our own light