i.

     I crumble

chalk
on the black
paint
of a water
holding
its breath
in a single
fish  

     its glass eye
of evolution
and the sound
of god
making light

of his angels
unfolding
as they are

hospital beds     to guide
a piloted

     exhaustion-

flight reminds the dead.  the solo

moan
of a bird
lands
on the shoulder
of a widow

     as the twice devalued coin
          of looking, looks
               on.

ii.

     I wish

I could dream
away
my name, the bad
mornings     spent cheating

     on her sadness

her sadness a jewel

madly
in the mouth
of a thief
some redundant

angel

chewing
the root
of its own
absence.