New Year's Eve dark at 4:30,
a dilation like a pleasured eye:
stray clouds pull themselves
across the clarity
& stars smudge unreasonably
across taffy-thin years of light,
long inviting blears.
I am peeling away from myself,
half-drunk on the absence of grief,
half-drunk on my lovely neighbor's wine:
it's funny how little moments
can pull together the murmuration
into a pattern you can hold:
I feel possibilities, sour morsels
of old dreams going loose
into the frozen nacre of street,
into the cubic alleyways,
rain smiles light as *****
But moments don't hold,
something turns off -
the clouds are burning alive
in a songbird's oubliette.
The bastille falls
all the prisoners escape.
Dec 31, 2022
Dec 31, 2022 at 7:48 PM UTC
New Year's Eve dark at 4:30,
a dilation like a pleasured eye:
stray clouds pull themselves
across the clarity
& stars smudge unreasonably
across taffy-thin years of light,
long inviting blears.
I am peeling away from myself,
half-drunk on the absence of grief,
half-drunk on my lovely neighbor's wine:
it's funny how little moments
can pull together the murmuration
into a pattern you can hold:
I feel possibilities, sour morsels
of old dreams going loose
into the frozen nacre of street,
into the cubic alleyways,
rain smiles light as *****
But moments don't hold,
something turns off -
the clouds are burning alive
in a songbird's oubliette.
The bastille falls
all the prisoners escape.
