Half the time the gold sun shines

With a radiant pronouncement

Of the fact that it’s not night.

---

The other half reveals the great glazed

Gamma in a violet’s repetition.

The invisibility is itself the source of terror.

---

There is a livingness in ghosts,

A gravity to faint sensations.

For all I know the old what ifs are all I know.

---

Busyheaded, left bereft with unkempt notions

Of famous men on far off islands,

Living with my unborn daughters;

---

There’s Hell in my imagination

That never ceases to exist.

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