quiet night


someone drives down the street so late
casts a pattern of light on the wall
is he heading home or

lean into the mirror so close
i can count my pores
the lines in my irises
gold and green

i dream of the old house
memorized geometry
where is the door to my room
water breaks through the halls
carrying glass bones
and sunflower petals

i feel the heat from the sky
crawl on the ground
in the fallen leaves
bury down deep
primordial instinct

the earth turns to reveal the sun
just rest a bit
thinking of eggs and toast
unconscious thoughts to the sea