MAYBE
as the night slipped by
places disappear
it’s a song that got lost
good night tightly
I meant what I mean
as it burns away
there is beauty in the fire
in the blood
the infinitesimal traces of being
not where to end it but where does it end
*
we’re here in this moment in this page like the pages that were
found by looking as young children
magically discovering words that kept us alive
written by long gone voices
speaking to us
enveloping us
now