head pillowed on the moon
I sleep-walk and knock
on the doors of stars
and scribble conversations
of what light does that
confounds the darkness
that odd relationship
of white and black
with content condensed
and lyrically executed
I shop every place in me
for the finale thread thoughts
sew a last line throw it out
new fabric new pattern
stitch again
a black hole tired of stealing?
the day that kissed the night?
a comet that lost its tail?
or like my life
maybe I’ll just leave it
a poem that refuses to end