Again.

 

We stole the shawl of night–
once or twice, nevermore!
It tripped
Over breathless words, shadows
Cast vague through soft inattention.

Drums boom
In the distance, in spaces
Brought into being by its name. So where
went the echo? Enclosed!
Trapped within a cardiac horizon,
Beats traced from the red
Particular upon our lips.

Here and there they race,
First filaments of music and magic
But lost! Lost and gone away,
A thundercrack traced
Along the contours of our shore.

Already the waves
of dissolution dash inwards:
An erosion of forgery,
And the same accident that drew us
To the sheet of this goodbye.

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