The Night is Full of Hopes and Loves

I generate all that sustains me.

And in the hole, the half-light,
where embers dare you closer,
the darkness becomes poetry.

And in the ember
is the fond summer of my youth
(meaning, the time before my life)
when I burned like a bonfire
and all around was night.
I poke the ember
Remembering the un-time;
the time when we were
one dancing pre-creation.
Nothing to nothing!
perhaps just a vision
in the aether

and not separated.
not given away.
not struggling
with how
much time
is spent with the other.
not playing games
where I throw a pebble
and you stoop to pick up the pebble
and I kick you

I am tired of this cycle.
turn, ember.
I will blow harder.

Watch. I skip a stone
and my name forms along
each ring

Your name is one I’ve heard of,
and my fear is that you’re amazing!

I cringe in the dust rather than
love that dark spot.

you must know:
I only love
because, love,
I do not

And then the night.

The night is full of hopes and loves
but in and of itself

it covers wind and water, rocks
keeping thoughts close

That’s when I run you up the flag-pole.
I do it at night,
So she can cancel you out.
in light, there is requirement.
but there is none
and that is where
her tower is.