the long limbs of your light climbing a mountain

where arches come ashore and the saint is barren

plows everything back into the afterlife

sees into a blind eye

you went where i lived when air

will start everywhere at once with breaths to come

wash salt with my final name

finds moss across from a star

the hand i eat from within

one drifting away forms the parade

sunlight crushed down to the unborn

inside the beetle voyages

starting to fall forever if i could be wingless

not yet the oriole before sunrise

having to carry the island to its huge stone heads

like a face without eyes the moon spills its sand

what if everything else was taken out of me except the parade within the dream

isn't God that moment the mirror in your mind breaks

eyes that open at midnight in a room deep in a whisper

i made a man without a face

                                                who sat there quietly dreaming

within a pearl

my silences are sky

                        oak tree with one eye open

isn’t a moon

the choice between

birth and dream

where do the dead stop being dead

                                                                        and marry in wine-colored dresses

there are rooms in the house one should not enter

                                                                                                strong winds that only whisper

who is the owner

                                 of what arises

                                                            between your soul

                                                                                               and the cave filled with sky