It happens
more and more rarely
in my ankle
run, run, run
catch the streetcar
named desire
(I cry with you Tennessee)
decanting the hours,
a rush into nowhere
in honeycombed memory
the dregs of days
set my teeth on edge,
deepen the archway
of naked irises
hurled into midnight
It happens
lighter and lighter
in my left shoulder
pierced with sunset
lost in a sparrow
May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 2:39 PM UTC
It happens
more and more rarely
in my ankle
run, run, run
catch the streetcar
named desire
(I cry with you Tennessee)
decanting the hours,
a rush into nowhere
in honeycombed memory
the dregs of days
set my teeth on edge,
deepen the archway
of naked irises
hurled into midnight
It happens
lighter and lighter
in my left shoulder
pierced with sunset
lost in a sparrow
