To wait
as noon
awaits
the sun's fall.

Has it ever crossed your mind

that this is just where you might end?

That the last steps you take
could be where you took your first?

That the nights you spent forgetting about which city you were in
that they could be as bright as your memories
will ever get?

Soft guns, the hardest rainfalls

and the thousand drops

kind needles on the skin

but nothing like a full turn

only a trembling agony, a slight sound

every delicate movement shatters

inside the middle ear. The eardrums

remain completely still: this

is the best of pains.

Loud sympathetic tone, vague mathematical immorality. I've been forgetting about the cloudy evenings. Now they are gleaming in the light of the fading summer.

I'm a million different people.