midnight

midnight

the sound coming from
the radio is not
in sync with the
frankincense stalking
the room
taped to the door
is a b/w photograph
of several half-eaten
cakes

someone is looking to buy
midnight

the sound coming from
the radio
embraces the air
which melts in
my hands
dripping between my fingers
to the floor
where it copulates
with the light
from a lantern

chocolate eyes and
a mouthful of cherries

around the corner
i am told
there is a place
where
midnight is bought and sold



in the garden

in the garden
where you spilled upon
this earth
you gave
them the scent
of darkness
and the crescendo of
your loins
climb into our cloud of
tears
they said
and when you
travel pack the wounds
of loss
and the darkness
of your heart curse
the pain
that will not heal
and the heart
that cannot feel
in the garden
in the garden
a rainbow
drumming in the
sand
in the garden
green flames
soothe a burning
rose
in the garden a pregnant
moon travels
from stone to stone
dripping wax on
unsuspecting
toilet paper
cathedrals