You led the way to off-white walls
and wooden floors and open doors
and birds and birds and birds
and all with dusty backs
among these books all leather-jacketed
but i could only find, in my own time,
the way to Arizona's yellow tent
afloat upon the lake. And I'm alone but in another way. I found a black bat tangled in a birch tree.
If I'm a body, you're a blanket on me.
If I'm a forest youre the field at my feet.
If I'm a corner that the dark backs into
you're the darkness that this corner clings to.
If I'm the mountain with the moon above me
I, the mountain, choose the moon to envy. And there's a line on my palm
I know it's not very long
I know it's not what you want
but there's a light in the dark
and there'll be light if I'm gone.