Today
he asked me where god was
when we were talking about space
and I told him I didn't know
and I hope that satisfied him

Tomorrow
he is going to ask me where god was
when his flowers died
and I'll tell him it's in the dying leaves
and I hope that will stop his tears

I hope everything stops his tears

street lamps out
construction lights like fireflies
orange and intermittent with their crossed eyes
blinking curiously in defiance
an orchestra in motion

do you think they're whispering?

Houses breathing and screens wavering
trees like lungs
oxygen in and out
shaking

the wind
it's raining so loud in here
so loud my stomach hurts
And my ears ring
And my hands shake

it's quiet now.

a boy sitting in an attic
waiting for his brothers
sweltering in the summer

a teenager standing in an attic
smoking a cigarette
staring out the circular window

an adult pacing in an attic
a bottle of alcohol emptied into the sink
chips in hand and tears in eyes

an old man sitting in an attic
waiting for his brothers
sweltering in the summer

watching the days that have already passed

When I'm with you
its like the roof of my house is being repaired
the knocks on my doors
a hammer on my house

It's annoying but the intentions are good

When I'm with you
I want to protest
I want my voice to color the streets
and hear the voices of the priests and preachers
a fist in the air
steeple in my heart

I'm tired now

When I'm with you
I don't want to write anymore
the seas of my mind are calmed
the fog can roll in
and the little boats can safely come to shore

I feel my eyes light up
like lights on little boats
like hammers on houses
like steeples and slumber

at night my door opens and closes with the wind
letting the light from the hallway flood in
for a moment
my little cat blinking its absinthe eyes with every inhale
and the shiny bulbs flashing with every exhale
a lighthouse on the coast of my dreams