Disorder (funeral song) (day 55)

Veils of sunlight sweep across the heavy naked trees, wintering. The clouds, indifferent, close again and sadness eclipses the hollow of time.

We are infinite except at certain points where we, too, must end in shadow, passing into gray light, peeling at the corridor.

I can hold death in a single palm and life in the other. I can show you a trick, do you want to see? You say the thing and watch the molecules disintegrate.

Each breath beating slow against the other. The dark animal heart of dark wet passage. Heart of influence. Heart at the center. The finality of stone.

A violent shiver in a driving rain. Trench coats. Vodka and cigarettes alone in florescent hotel rooms all across the nameless town that is you.

A litany of sorrows and desertions, all wrapped up in waxed silence now forever.

In your eyes, the sacred sign of the cross hairs. Trigger warnings and unmet needs. Hand to mouth, blood to throat to chalice. With angels all around.