I

No streaking comet trail, no stars, no
moon reflecting sun—just slow
& gauzy dark up up above & nothing
to see through or to, the threat of emptiness,

the emptiness a threat, & now (it is later) &
now, later & later still, my legs won’t stop
moving, walking me restless through streets.
Dazed & happy, night-birds sit silent as coal.

II

Late night & too far removed from what
keeps me here; I’m lost, lonely & lost &
alas the map is ripped, torn to shreds, or else
smudged up so much it makes no damn sense.

Three days in a row I’ve danced the same steps,
movements all the same, & now (it is later) &
now, later & later still, I have no idea how to live
this life. My empty hands in front of me.

III

Bright bright moon, two days from full, my hands
seem to glow. You could sail ships clear of rocks,
drive without headlights. You could blindfold yourself
& know right where to go. & now (it is late for me)

& now, later & later still, slow sleep comes
over me exactly the way you find yourself
suddenly awake—not sure how it happened,
not sure it’s what you want.