Devices For The Hours

her eyes vanish into the book,

a candle burned,

a ring of light on the table,

my mind like air

became extracted in a condensed

gust,

her lips cracked by salt,

breath warm

spoke not unkindly in tumbledown

words,

if i could regain her sight with jello

in sockets,

lemon vision

blurred serene,

i would dance as a scarecrow

finding a locust on an ear of corn,

oh swan necked beauty

i want to be exposed

and not feel as a beaten cur,

see the clear streams inside me,

sunrise will send an image to you

of what is not fearful dreaming,

that the hours are silver toned,

and not so reckless,

each floor creak

with arms outstretched,

i will not collapse,

but be seen by you and accepted,

lift milk from the refrigerator

pour over crackling cereal,

today will be no different,

but i am somewhat sober now,

one more coffee

as the clock chimes,

she will become again

visible in a way

night will not show,

and i prefer it that way,

somewhere an orchestra strikes

up a refrain,

that lingers over the pain,

suspending tomorrow for us