A DAY WITH THE NIGHT

I told stories to myself cranium after
silence
When I speak talk from pillows punctured by
dreams when
glory are piles high that come crashing down
that soothe my calmness
If you let go of sleeping,
glory are the eternal days that layer
and minister a way of longing
probing the air and rest
If you stretch out a measure
with every indication of day break coming
Things like sweethearts and faith
like afternoon legend,
like dove treatise
If finitude
my nostalgia like take it or leave it,
things like fractions that elapse
and leave fractions nomad
and collapsing

-Published on the Ottawa Poetry Newsletter, 2018