delirium has always felt finer
than staying sane & having
awareness spoil the fun.

thinking to find you in
an honest mistake, & maybe
to begin the most well-
thought lie.

chances are fleeting, i've
got no resonance in the things
that i do. oh, there are nights
that were made for telling you
about the way the ocean drowns
the sky, the lightning that
touches lightly all the
city streets, & the
fountain of gods
from which it
begins.

((i had a dream; in it you gave me a black eye. you gave me your name & a reason to dally over small events))

found a portrait today, in
the saharan heat, of a woman
tattooed to the bone. hair
swept up into a romantic
knot. the barest back;
it is my favourite
part of human
flesh

but i make an exception
for your hands made of
spiders & their
webs.

sanity still makes promises you could never keep