Call it an exercise in restraint/ The angle of ascent is sharp/ Like the sloped ceiling
The girl in black dress and tights stands behind the fawn,/ hands clasped, their white blur forming almost/ a heart.
one of the benefits of the disease –/ you learn new words. You/ also learn new meanings for/ old words.
like light is/ like my speckled skin: brim/ and brink. verge.
there will be/ no burial burn/ the body cancer/ cratered
Blood draws dissolve into Christmas lights/ veins dizzy with the latest medications.
The other man holds the letters/ to his nose, inhaling deeply/ One letter after another he lifts and smells
After today’s rain/ all that’s left/ of the planets/ green and pink
In the hospital there was time/ to read to dream to act/ to read Freud’s dream book on his couch