nighthood

there is a poem written

that will make it so

no more poetry will be written

this is not it

though it

starving and short

makes me want to stop writing

*

love

give me a chance

for chance

gave us love

in between all those people

who we could’ve met

we met we

*

the day was obese with light and expectation

silence noisy with sun

and the beautiful breath of two

who can’t see how wonderful

they are when they are

sleeping and snoring

and dreaming of morning

where the exhaustion of night rests

in the mouth of their arms

*

i am all out of poems

but i am not out of me

and i maybe the best poetry

as long as i write as i do

and try not to confuse

what it is to be i

a different form of you