I’ll miss it like a morning train

and wonder where it could have gone

But never will I watch the clock and cry.

Those days have risen healthily

in flames as hot as christian hell

But never will I stick on asking why.

The love I learned to set aside

Peripherally haunts my eyes

And catches every light I might let in.

But all the colors, bright and pale,

The diamonds in its shadows’ cast,

Satanic shapes in midnight’s moon,

Like whispers of a lover’s croon,

Are pointed teeth of Cheshire cats,

As sharp as pain in lower backs,

Sands of beaches full of glass

That bleed the feet that hurry past.

I strap on boots with heavy sole

To tread on glass, to stand alone.

The shore a shallow feathers’ brush,

The swell of waters calm and warm.

And out beyond these simple swells,

A deeper, darker lack. And though

I hear the song of sirens call,

I’m never calling back.