I used to dream we were all like little faucets
god had supplied with finite volumes of breaths
times “I love you” could be meant,
words we’d let our others read,
and always stirred up inside
just one too many deaths.

but god out grew I am still trying
his laughs he laughs and how the stones they shake.
and god is the laugh that got out
kept on laughing
is keeping me awake.

so I stopped sleep.
thursday afternoon turned it down it went off
drips drips into words I won't say
and darkness full into the smiling face of the deep.

and how and how and how the stones they shake
my rolling in His laughter and how and how
and how.

I have never seen darkness.
and where will death find me now?