Again I see a lantern burn its last light of liquid gold,
nothing mobile but for dim-lit debris
along the street seams outside an opening window.
The midnight air calms itself as vision reconfides
slowly behind their drapes; a reddened gaze
periodically shading daylight’s seeing passivity.
God’s shiny balloon had long earlier burst
hiding from us her translucent puffing streams;
clouds absorbing into the dissipating dark air
proclaiming the familiar omen that howls lustful death,
reminding that it’s time to wisp away consciousness
into a static wave; as though days added up differently,
waking amid geometrically similar empty pockets
and faded face lockets configuring equal days before.
From blood curdling until eyeballs burst through skin,
the moon shot its pin-needle bullet through my skull
and momently I woke to briefly view the infinite street below
before quickly returning silent as before
as to lay again in eternally returning sleep, knowing
soon to reopen the gate and think fondly of déjà vu.