You know I have lasers
for eyes
and I can see inside

Am I getting to the point
of sickness
what is this ride

it brings it all back
this wavelength
this deride

this is the end
of a thread
and you
are the eye
of a needle

this here is
the temperature
at which i melt
into rivulets
of snow

during a quiet, warm twilight
with angels whispering
in our ears

we ran around the dogwood tree
and collected lightening bugs
in a glass jar
that lit up our dark night
our small world

that tiny flickering
mortal fire

living lamps
floating
flashing
in a glass jar

and with angels whispering in our ears
all we knew was love.

maybe the earth knows or
the body knows first
what he or she dares
immersed in sunsets
and adverbs
lions make themselves
prey in blue windows
outside the fle/ash  of words
the verbs of the world
inside a shepherd whistles
a love song
to the sweetness of grass