i don't know what to title this yet

love sucks and this poem isn't finished

 

The afterglow of matter

And the tyrant of crawling men

 

The open time

The whole

The sound

To be enraptured in heart

The ace and kings

A far away place

run forth and willing

Iike an ant that lurks in sun

And burns like a leaf

And runs like a lion in the wild

Like the trees on a grave

Open

Always open

Moving to shrillness

 

My comprehension

And what begins

 

Turning slowly like a blossom

The outward curling

Of my brain

The inward howling

Of my tongue

 

And for an instant

I shriek by the touch

Of the wind

Curtains, like gentle dust,

Waver, invisible

 

Coolness is a hand

The same hand he knows

The same hand we know

 

Thinking too much, I drift away

And replay

And replay

Til night is day