violently the hope of change opens up
i swing my unhinged arms everywhere
staring up at the twilight
remembering the stars are me
i can fight
even with a sickened skeleton in my bed
at any given time
it comes and goes, crashes here, crashes there.
during the odd hours of the night
my strengths gone dormant are glittering gold, as i behave
kingly as the lion, the
male. dormant strengths
have to do with everything that is not
paid attention to.
everything but the light of the moon sparkle.
a swarvorski crystalline.
down below, at dawn,
mushrooms, quartz, mint: the following life
of our former sins
grow out of the dirt in
forgetfulness of them.
the rain is sweet.