PIECES  

it was here that the sun
took off its clothes and
ran naked among us. with
the drop of each garment,
shining more sweetly the more
it revealed, the better i saw
the soul of the world – rotating
like a fragment moving towards
its own evolutionary end.

and to not speak this time will
be the death of this seemingly moving
universe, a sudden pull (how it
kills) of old from new. so
lover i say this: i think you have
heaven in you and you throw
it as a weapon, as a simple
uneasiness, aimed at darkening
the only things that shine on us
tonight: i am speaking of stars
this time, concentric circles that
i touched as though they were
lullabies, pulling us into nothing.

understand you deny me that
one motion i crave when you won’t
hold up your hands to say it ended,
that it left under the cover
of your heaven, leaving even
the sun burnt out, its clothes
still unclaimed, shattered: pieces
like pages, like eternal.

© 2006 Kevin Feeley