Tear the house down
because it’s nice sometimes
to sleep on the ground,
when the stars are out
and burning up our everything.
You can’t erase the way
those dots connect like necklaces
around pretty necks
that look so permanent.
The glass dome around the lights
at the center of the ceiling fan
flicker with the rhythm
of the crooked blades
that never look the same.
You can waste time
without trying to
as if frozen in an igloo
overnight because
the winter bite
is subtle and pierces slowly
through your heart
when you aren’t looking.
I’d like to see you
on a frozen lake
without the help of metal
skates and sake
in ceramic always steaming
from the fire you have made
for us to sit by for our nightly sleep.
The dreams will be of ways out
of the snow and when we wake
we’ll go in all the right directions
even though there are no
indications we are doing so.
We will see our home again
mangled from the rage
that sent us spinning
into all this blurry
sea foam.
It can be made again
just like we can
like the best parts of the past
we carry with us
in the lanterns that we hope
never run out,
and burn so brightly.

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