I haven’t died since the full moon
you haven’t kill me
90 and 10 hours – plus a handful of minutes
(I lost count of the seconds but I am still counting)
there is a divine principle in trusting and surrendering
to go beyond the corners of the self
to offer world and sky
nights without sleep to render
infinite each word
somewhere someone is dying
I saw it on TV
a paper bomb a tank
armed with an insult
a boat without oars without
beaches to arrive to
a name – ripped braid by braid –
holding red poppy
panties
one by one the lights go out
on the streets the night gives way
to light
And I have not died since the full moon