Dizzy with distance and soft in my hands
Tomaž fell again in the garden.
He came too late to tell me love sometimes fades
like a room without lamps. I wish for no more wishes,
this fence is fucking pointless.
What is it like where you are not sleeping?
Here it is so dark. It is so dark here without your glasses, and
everywhere will be eventually.
You were my church and my spaceship
on an Austin lawn, where the White Witch extended her
incantatory wrists and
the three of us
were thirty of us drinking champagne and chanting
convinced we were somehow a bit more
than we were, a church and a spaceship
where the Lord is that goddamned moon
carving shadows in caves, brains
of skated-on lake in the lightning
of mind I see you galloping always
the Great Wall of China.