There is thoughtful space
Laid out between
The electric architecture borne
Of this inky evening
In the rain.
Same space I wish were born between
Me and something that speaks.
I want to regret. But I have nothing.
Thoughtful space is reflective;
A muted ocean. She's
On the television
A pounding hurricane
Of an especially thick
Window pane.
Frosted with warm water
Steaming with decay.
Rest assured I will be
Agitated for you and you alone
A destructive gift of mine
Tonight's the metamorphic day.