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SPARSE NOTHINGS
silk pillowcases mean nothing to the sun.
tantamount forces declare their love at dawn, for they have waited far too long.
with the dusk comes honey-stricken skies.
the copper girl sings her sorrows by firelight.
she will unravel her arms, but only for pinkened love.
the starlight’s flowers ran slick.
heavy dewdrops puncture summer tongues.
he flicked the brush and the night fell soft.
the bumblebee tore the silver shrouds.
how do we carry on when we are living on such sparse nothings?
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