uncouple on my dinner table
just as my heart blooms and loosens
over and over
again and the light
dims from white to honey
then steel to black
and the loneliness comes
and then it goes
as these petals come and go.
Such is the character of life
that day after day the world
feels a garden of plain and tender
and anguished hours
so sometimes the day feels
endless and sometimes
the night feels so
like now with air around
the orchid thick with my beloved
dead.
