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a little while back you 

thought the sunlight

made you– arranged you 

kindly from head to toe 

and smiled when it 

was done working;

don’t go making the 

same mistakes twice

shallow diver, last night

you knocked your

head against the wall,

and you felt like the

great black nothing had

opened itself up to you

only for a couple seconds, 

but that was enough, because 

you could’ve sworn you 

saw something hiding in it, 

crouched low; something 

you could hold and understand, 

And maybe tell others about

don’t go making the same 

mistakes twice; don’t think 

you’re talking to god or his ghost,

and keep your warm fingers 

out of the cold; don’t pretend 

you’ve seen something 

that just isn’t there to see

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let me train my eyes to 

find their faith in

something sharp as 

easy lies that stick 

troubled persons 

burdened by themselves

once, we walked together 

with the great, metallic, 

ready-natured other-thing 

that flooded pain and 

beauty through the past:

–the reverences we held 

for feelings lost and

sometimes found again, 

the reckless sins we spit

into each other’s bone-dry eyes

–the references we made 

to sounds once heard and 

not erased until that great 

metallic other-thing left 

black spots in our minds

And like that, it stole away 

into the emptiness from 

which it came– and all the

understandings that we 

thought we’d made

fell apart; these days

I can’t remember anything;

didn’t we figure it out? 

something, atleast?