not so much the sun... but the moon today,
how it fetches the glint
from a fire of doom
but slips the lie to the truth
in truly black
rooms.

the barge of my waste
is time spent with you.
and no other
thing kills
as sweet.

in the valley of the hollow
i begin my lurch.
I tumble through the awe
without my skin, and it hurts.
i blunder through the stars
of our astronomy... no doubt.
but i would have you
as my nothing
to have

something.

too have nothing
about.