At night there were silent
parades of horses.
The sky was a black
spill of coke.
The wedding of darkness
and infinite
darkness.
The dream unfolds
from the bottom of the boat.
You lead me to the water
where the tide
smells of sulfur,
the brine of death
overtaking its edges.
There are starlings
in the branches
of pine trees and hiding
inside the blanks
of the night.
Tiny white and yellow
flowers in the earth.
When I kneel down
to the wet ground
I hear the silence of engines
rusting in a far off field.
The static of invisible
filaments trapped in air,
minerals
coming undone.
That night, like a soft door
opening.
