like rainwater toward the drain:
listen as the concrete get drenched and
i am washed away in June floods:
so this is what July looks like when
one eye is closed—
now i see what all the fuss was about.
i find pillows in the cemetery three blocks away.
sounds, motions, i stay for it all:
to hear the patter of sunlight
in the air, to hear every single ray
light up the specks of dust floating
like tiny fire flies;
like the stars above which form
opaque patters in the sky,
vicious monsters await,
yesterday's champagne looks so good
on the kitchen counter:
under the blanket i can see that you turned on the desk lamp.