(1.) Dawn

trees melt
from the blackened wax abyss

like ghosts
disjoining themselves
in whispers
from the wick

and the first light
of a long relinquished sunrise
starts to peel
the fugitives from our flesh

until these stowaways
expelled from past lives
are restored again
as strangers
and their trespasses
are swept from the skin
upon light’s every subsequent touch

we are in it now

in remission of night

and you were right

these shut-ins
had spilled us
from our shadows

we had become
briefly irretrievable
to the colors of the sun

but we are in it now

we are in the morrow of our loss.

(2.) Day

heavens uncoil
and flush out of see-through eyes
and suddenly you rise
from every
street lit ocean
to meet what dreams you here
so vividly alive

mountains,
trees
and superfluous moons

(marooned in daylight)

envious of the ease
with which you spill your shadows
crawl like phantoms towards you

and I,
bitter still
fall through you
untouched

inexistant

and I,
unloved
with such sheer indifference

still try
somehow

to unbloom the sky
from every pair of eyes
that let me pass by
unattained

and I,
covetous of how perfectly you framed
the absence of light

still pry
at what remains of you
in every drop of rain.

(3.) Dusk

the cigarette
upon whose receding edge
the ghosts of love
once danced

has lost its taste

daylight drains

and all that ever clung
to lips unkissed by you
is glad to hitchhike in its wake

here it comes
the collapse of a blue vacuum

but like Saturn

and every other pebble
stuck mid ripple

stuck halfway down the throat
of some ocean coughing itself blue

we
are immovable.

(4.) Night

the great rains of the world
have exploded from us

and for a moment
we were alliums
on the grave of death
hoisted high toward the sun

and for a moment

we were ours alone

for a moment

we were gone

but we are back in it now

the throes of moving on.