Morning comes:



always the day before the distance

ground down

my teeth all muscles now having become

so much force-

these feverish simulations

while the night is falling over the warmth of a woman,

the weight of a bomb beneath your arms; I set my sights

without a particular focus

quiet

return inside me

a monologue curved softly

let go of its pride

"a kind of heat which is not meant for us"