days for the living [fragment]

the descent of dreams rolls downwards like skulls,
all those flower-tucked eyes & neon day-glo smiles.
there is a day for the dead but no day for the living
unless all days are days for the living, the sheer
amount of days rendering them all worthless.


the reflection of the moon in water

i thought i saw a light where the land meets the sea
a signal that you were coming back to me
i’m staring down the ocean like i could make it recede
and go back to where it was birthed from a trembling seed
all rivers leading to one place: my heart, of course
and drowning is just a return to the source
and even the moon has to let go sometimes
when the water rushes in at the shoreline
to comfort me where i am buried up to my neck
waiting for you to come back from the wreck.