When the homes were wearing
The shroud of 4am, I was forgetting

The glass oracle that carries
All of our coffins to receding galaxies.

I was forgetting the woman wearing
Diamonds I saw last night, standing

Beyond the empty street that lead to the park
Naked, and coiling like a snake on top

Of the body of some so lonely looking man.
I was forgetting the way, I then imagined

How the spittle swelled on her tongue
To drip to the cement then beyond cement,

To the shifting clay under foot.
In shroud of 4:01am, I was forgetting

The sleep routine of my lover drudging
To the door to bolt, then stopping to look

Down at me, lost in the some snake skin
Husk of me; creating poems not to by eyed

By porcelain birds that shatter like
Wineglasses on the marble floor

Of my dream home.
In the light of 5:03am I woke

After forgetting how
The attractive force of earth

Has a hold on everything I got
To the roof, feeling the sharpness

Of sandpaper shingles, and stepped
Out, finally taken back by a conclusion,


When my body was grasped by gravity
And thrown to the gravel, breaking

Both ankles.