Once Upon an Oversight

Give me a day

for you to treat

these fresh spring 

wounds of mine

I've been collecting them

in secret

in passing

by the roadside

where you once walked.

The pale

sick

sky

screaming overhead

and underfoot;

we don’t know where

we stand anymore

and you've exited that

dream of mine

a trillion times

where one of us pulls away

just as the other

becomes too attached

to breathe

or sleep

or slip further

into safety

or slide further

into the guarded

arms of regret.

Ego Dominus Tuus

There was a void

instead of the horizon.

There was a storm

in place of the sun.

The new sun

was a storm.

A black hole

with a cloud outline.

Handling the hail

we held on to hope

of better days coming.

There was a void

on that horizon.

There was ungular

damage to each sky.

The new end

to the new tremor.

A windless summer

in the breath.

Breathing in

ballistic barbs before

letting go of you.