to grieve

the other paradox is
i want too much

and
not enough

this is why i’ve
seen the sunset
49
times in the past
two days

as the glimmering
transcendence
marches transient
on my eye lids

it comes all
in shivers in

bone hands
crippled onto
sheets

//

why is it my
eyes are
glass universes
tucked deep
these days

lit from inside
if only
a flicker

dark blue
the color of
grieving
not allowed

here

we stop our
eyes with
salt prayers
cast

heavenward in
soft
silken questions

beaded rosary
dripping simple
sweet

onto naked
wet
chest