i pluck out my last eyelash and 
weave it into the tapestry of your cave, 
ready to intercept the dark 
with my luminous stalactite.
we beat rapidly, like the wings of startled bats,
like the cold drops on taut nerves.

suppose i came here to live?

you spill the waterfall over my breath.  
i strike the heat out of unhistoric walls.
buffalos and spears dance the flames out 
into my open tongue,as i eat frequently 
to remain hungry.

the door closes.  
nothing in the end portends a beginning.
we stay shadowy pigeons, 
looking to exchange rainbow feathers 
for subatomic entertainment.
you call out my name.  
it is a strange sound, like the purring of whales.  
somewhere in the cave - the smell of burnt children.

11.26.99