Tuesday, March 07, 2017

The End of Night





The End of Night


I exist
to be conquered.
I, set against all other I’s,
am a stillborn poem
taken out of my mother’s womb.

Once I was immortal,
condemned to endless mornings,
empty of the knowledge
of manmade rituals.
Until out of my mouth that knows,
came the shape I was seeking.
Now I want to be
a waterfall of hummingbirds
covering our bodies.

Sometimes I read you
under another twilight.
In that half-light
your voice is different.

When you open your wings
you do not look like yourself
but I know that it’s you.

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