NIGHT'S OTHER COUNTRY Before the great winds come and the white noise of night, we'll cut loose from clocks and stand in fields spread out to nowhere singing mantras. Before the quiet waits in garments of good bye, we'll bridge the silence of guitars and float sound to its center. Before hours burn to ash, we'll wrap ourselves in wind, in raw strips of light, our bodies wild as vines. Before land's end, we'll swim in all the rivers of the sky and drown in sunlight, inhaling love as sweet as candlewick. Before our final season, let it be summer resonant with wings, vermouth of old sunrises, mountains growing slowly in the rain the light around us ripe and round and if it dies out, let it be extravagant, a marvel of darkness in night's other country. MOUTHING SECRETS since I have learned not to kill them things have been easier though I prefer my ghosts to inhabit the dark if they come by day I'll leave all the doors open I watch them mouthing secrets smiling as if there were two heavens I recall simple equations in the heart's circumference each sum exquisitely fixed in my memory women in sweet and sudden rages for fear the future comes when they're not looking children claustrophobic in their skins fanning out like fish bones younglings piercing love's delicate membrane to taste the fleshy center the family in the gray solfeggio of autumn and the ritual smile in their company the hours pass until a spill of sun a sweep of shade and under the ashen stars my dead are growing old

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