I just imagine mourning
(the time of day, I mean).
He's a great poet.
I mean he's honest
and beautiful.
You're a lot more into fame
than you're willing to see.
Like we make death
about us, we make fame
about us too. When we can.
Morning is my favorite.
Dusk is exciting too.
Except for the urgency.
Nobody mourns the loss
of light but us. We dread
the light sometimes
(but not the morning)
because it makes us
aware that we are
(like waves) endless.
I dreamed that I was killing someone.
Then I found out the person was in on it.
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