Poetry

In my sky your blackbird 
a lamp without a light 
making a nest of moon 
where the fireflies will meet. 
 
A mirror breaks my dream 
I paint my graveyard with blood 
of a rose which felled a tattoo 
from the morning dew. 
 
They make love under a - 
 
cloud in shimmering dark 
of vanishing youth; One day someone 
will claim the fallen vial.