I can see your thoughts…
I can see your dreams.
In great blue buckets they fall.
In washing, spattering rain
Streaking and running
On my minds windowpane.
In this shifting, familiar house
You leave ghostly trails of smiles…
That led only to close doors.
Where behind I hear murmurings
Of far away voices
Of far away rooms…

Just beyond the reach…
Of my curled, categorizing fingers
Dancing across the bleached spines
Of empty books.
Where just behind…
In slices of light
I try to steal
From your drifting eyes
A small tender look…

In all of the dreams
I’ve had of you…
Clench fists
And bloody lips
Litter my absent mind.
Taut white skin
Where my knuckles bare bone
Protrude like the ribs of my chest.
Where deep within
My true strength lies…
Shaped from the breathing,
Slowly flowing galaxies…
Of your celestial eyes.