Poetry

Cannot undo, the
headless leap of faith.
It was not the answer.

A thousand moon
I will wait for the calamity, when
you come back with empty hands.

Playing Mozart,
I discover myself in the
jungle of antlers.

The grief survives
eternally. I arrange all
the words to spell correctly,
a white death.

The black tree
stumbles on pale moon.
The angel will not
open the door.