He had a romantic curiosity
being simple as summers on the farm.
innocence with this pathological fear of loneliness;
living under the weight of imperial iron.

The pulse of time eats at his sullen heart,
pregnant with the city
that comes alive
in the dark.

lower latitudes
and winter nights,
heavenwide a spark of light.

He can still see his mother
stuck in the foothills,
she had safe-passage tonight
and he was meant to remember