in every moment
a world is created
a novel is written in the mind
then burned as excess memory
every bitterness is sweet
every taste is reassessed
to match the perfect vowel
with the perfect tempo
held in the hand
and squeezed until there's nothing but pulp
every black becomes white
and every white becomes fever
and any gray is obliterated,
sifted, recreated, grown to full maturity
until it dies from its own heart exploding
with decisiveness and guilt and sorrow
and whatever word is stronger than euphoria

in every moment, a life is saved,
then lost,
then saved again.

the streetlamps dim
to push sleep past the sidewalk
up through windows
into bedrooms,
like an ether
with a deep breath that never exhales

collapsing with the smog and the traffic
until asphalt footsteps are as loud
as the ringing in your ears

and four o'clock comes
from endless birdsongs
courting darkness
as if it were
light.