Poetry

Sundown
body becomes blue.
You were stitching
opals in eyes.

How do I find
you, when you would not
come in twilight?

The flight of a swan
takes a turn to cross
the river of flames.
Would you be a witness?

For the sake of death
don't die, amidst the hymns
of pain in dark shadowing life.

I know, I will
suffer in sunlight, when
the moon squeezes the blood.