as i leave the smell of sound behind
with the city, my marveled stars
begin to grow cold and darkling:
there is only beauty
in the presence of life.
each breath, whether to curse or kiss,
burns brighter than fruitless lights
ten thousand years away.
i am satisfied standing
in the doorway of sleep,
watching you walk down the hall
just to hold me after i've
made love to this world.
you are the dark splotches
that would hold stars if not for
the flourish of human life.
