So it is with the frantic vanishing of things. Late into the escapade you wondered why you felt this Way and how. The trees and the deer outside were Not listening. Dispelled myths and abjured dreams. Constantly creating what you cannot understand. Constantly motioning for signs of change.

You were walking backwards into the strength Of somebody else’s poem, all while you were not looking. The trees were the color of the houses, the houses The color of…

It was only in the frenzy of an unheard of Night that I heard you singing the end of God’s life. In the private language of hopelessness, all of us…

How, I, in taking you apart diminished myself was beyond me. And yet tamed and merciful I sit here listening. Situation After situation unfolds without choice. The drugged forests Have…

You were secretly enamored With the split backbone of the sex and Centuries and the love hereafter of feeling alive. She brushed the clouds and the earth stopped its tumult. …

Now there is never something that You can never quite articulate that speaks Up and down the ladder of vowels and vows And moves you to assimilate yourself into The…

Half of what I said was metaphor. Quietness, the gift. The heart asleep. I drew a circle here: eyeless and strange. I strapped you in. The moths Around the house have been hovering — And we were fearless enough to stay. God wills us forward, but we are not moving.