all the little pieces can go wrong.
We experience such wakefulness,
because of the disturbance.
Tension knocks on our door,
then children wake in a cold sweat
as the center of darkness
swallows them whole.
On a night like this,
enter at your own risk.
All of our problems are coming,
bringing their own dark music,
and you know its illness is your own.
Look away if you can.
It will not change this night.
Beneath pain is memory
a full moon ascending.
On an intense night like this,
tears are black stones.
Sometimes we can see ourselves
in this mirror crumbling
like certain dried-out leaves
and wonder, who has forgotten us?
I am still in that place of sadness
attentive to any sound returning
if I had known
the doors stayed open this long
I would have brought more words
some people prefer quiet moments
but there is more noise than I expected
emitting from the center of my heart
echoing out into the emptiness