Still night;
eyes keen,
sheets unfurled—
sails.
The night, sometimes,
swims with sad fish.
The night, sometimes,
is a ritual drowning.
Lonely, I consider waking you
to say
*Look—
the stars are bioluminescent, baby.*
Jan 3, 2011
Jan 3, 2011 at 7:16 PM UTC
Still night;
eyes keen,
sheets unfurled—
sails.
The night, sometimes,
swims with sad fish.
The night, sometimes,
is a ritual drowning.
Lonely, I consider waking you
to say
*Look—
the stars are bioluminescent, baby.*
Request permission to use this poem