(Re)discovery of light

a month or two in the underside
all the while dimming flame

leaves grow dry and damp in musky twilight
field of vision dampened each passing day

hostile smokes and stenches
lighting away quiet stars in the sky

already your call crackles and makes no sense
your voice lost in gales aflutter scattered over rivers

will the days ever find their way back to the land
or stay lost in the ocean by furious riptides

on the road the streetlights bow spreading winter
bubbling and gassy beneath the horizon

I remember only the you that I was in rose bushes
fragmenting at the end of each row of thorns

spikes in my side that irritate the skin deep red
unbeknownst to a man in a fugue state

what happens if the fuel for my light burns cold
October rain snuffing with abandon

the wood of the world damp without the sun
starving and saddled to the ground

longing for a means to keep the colour in one’s eyes
without poison and salt in the airway

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