The poet is against himself,
in constant struggle for air...

She held the puppy,
lulling her with tears...

He threw rocks in the pond,
contemplating the waves...

He tried hard to anchor her
to the ground as if her mind would respect him...

As she unlocked the door,
a thousand black stars fell from her heart...

The sky falls
and I am trying to walk in beauty...

I am you inside of me
and the hunter and deer...

I know you are in rehab (no no no)
and have been clean...

I gave her two books.
Both are about miracles and faith...

He tucked her explanations
under the arm...

I knew he was coming to talk about
what was tattooed on his skin...

She needs to tell me her newly-born truth
as if I could accept the unacceptable...