nearly night
the sky bleached
to winter
white over
black water
sough of wind
from box fans
speaking tongues
to the heat
of bodies
of beds and
rooms rising
twice the moon
rose this month
twice I spoke
platitudes
on time and
the color
blue outside
the vault of
sky dark blue
violet blushed
bruised violent
there’s never
only one
anyone
will tell you
skin of dust
on liquid
dusk covered
I fall and
fallen thus
after fall
it will be
the middle
of my life
one of those
days become
one of these