Night, hold my head in your arms.
My hair and heart are a tangle--
twisted lines drawn in thick pencil.
Trace them with your white finger.
Night, show me the leafy chaos in your window.
I see the moon in my fingernails.
They leave red crescents on my palm.
Night, you lie like a blanket across the subway tracks.
Your river of emptiness has flooded its banks--
space is a static haze, the sun burned out,
photons distended, electrons spinning away.
My ache is just a candle flame behind a curtain.
I am a heartbeat and a cloud of breath in you.