Dacryocystocele
Until one day you left
little by little as noon crept
lounging records of attempted sprawl
as aural trompe les yeux
dripping upon the dream stalagmite,
every drop of calcified want,
silently,
when, remember when?,
you entrained a silver bullet to New York
and would not get off,
that I may drink your blood,
the overflow of a coronary bleed,
that strangest of needs
to leap to inebriation
from a fleshy claret
Nose, bouquet,
yellowing falls from
the sound of the sun
breaking gold, pink et purple
as the backdrop
of your youth,
tan, young
pink and purple,
if only for the breeze
breaking vases
in the catacombs
full of old
coalescing
the noise that pulls the moon
the lullaby
that rocked
the bassinet
in blue glow
