For Yana

*
emotions are glowing dog carcasses
I’ve been taught to love
and poke with a stick

 

dead reckoning : moths tend
headlong into the light

fanatic – to blossom fixation
(of who you thought was the moon)

 

the size of the world in the dark uncertain
and unable to speak and
unable to reach you I am
unable to reach you

 

honey and honeysuckle, to nuzzle

(my heart in your lap)