The night sky flows
Like deep black wine
into my hollow skull,
and I’m dizzy on the flash
and flicker of eternity.
A dance of forms and the elegant bright
across the canvas of the night
is electric, vast, and cold.
Leave me alone until I’m old
and silver and radiant
like the sliver of moonshine
and ancient angelic suns which
hang silent and pensive before my eyes.
My cheeks are icy but my breath is hot
the grasses beneath my toes are moist
mosquitoes buzz and hum
in wild incantation for my eardrums
and the sky ripples
like the surface of a pond.
Orion, I see you swim
and chuckle there in vastness
electrified and blue
as you drink so deeply of
the wine of Big Dipper!
The mosquitoes and I can hear
the music flowing from your lungs
so we waltz and rejoice
in step with you across the heavens
for our lips have tasted the same
celestial chalice, and we are hooligans!
and I see the absurdity of your belt,
how much hubris and delight
you must feel in wearing it.
and I see blown in
across the mountains
a glowing white fog of dust.
Orion, I must ask
is this bright cloud
the opium of your lungs?
I breathe deeply this sacrament
and smile to your shining face.
And if I closed my eyes to sleep,
you think I might float away
on a swirling wave of mosquitoes
into the oblivions of midnight?
I hover up skyward with chattering teeth
you aren’t here but a mess of stars!
Weightless as a wisp of smoke
I drift alone all woozy,
and hear you chanting slowly
in your secret language.
I glide back into my eyelids
waking from these fever visions, and
from down here, Orion, I can see you just fine:
your gleaming eyes — that prideful grin!
Can you see me standing
a speck of dust in the cold
gazing so reverently at your face?
Can you hear my voice
or does it drift away like gibberish
in the breeze?
I can’t translate your liquid tongue
but silence is our common language
so I’ll wait here listening,
whispering to the howl of the wind,
the two of us stranded in our bones
and shivering in this dream we call home.