your whale oil sings to a teaspoon
and the rabbits run fumbling
through the daisy junk
of your yellow sun.
you are blue like green is amber
and the night has lost a thumb
on a scale.
your phantoms pall at your bedside.
they watch you dream and weep
heaving hazy dust
unplugged from a drum.
it used to lay upon the skin
of a tight snare... but now the rhythms
breach and all worlds
are none.

what is gone from you, we cannot say.
but it heralds the coming of a gone thought
on a spool of twine... the weight of moonshine
and utter loss.
it fogs the goggle of pine fresh eyes
and looms false.
but the tethers of your sweet heart
are upon me.

taunt.