swimming for so long, my wrinkled soul emerged
feeling ahead for once. but the sun rushes towards
cloudiness. it outruns me and the hour hand at six.
how did we get here? shall we take it from the
beginning or the end? i don’t believe they will be
very different. look how they each begin with a
slow embrace, godbees migrating to the smell
of winter, a long plane trip. 

these were the dangers i tried
to ignore, but those green dusks that blush 
and your whisky kisses in my bed!
at four in the morning i wake from dizzying seas
and boats that keep on coming and going
in misty evenings with no lantern. i wake fearful.
men sleep a thousand sleeps and wake maybe once. at least
i light poetry with a match like alcohol, trying to find you.