No More Poems About Darkness

No more poems about darkness
No more poems about death
The pain that’s left
Drowning, blood,
Your slit wrists,
hanging
No more.

No more poems about love,
about hearts
and dating emotional charts
the backslid kids of yesteryear
cheers.
The fears of our lonely years.

No more rhymes
No more late-night romance chimes and
song and dance moves that end
in nightmare monsoons.

Just you.
and Me.

In the dark
With a pen
And paper
Flicking ink on white
Flying kites on the blue

of living room blankets—
let’s melt beneath
the fabric

and live as lent.
Let’s live as cotton spent molecules
Clinging.

Lets lives as rent
paid in full
the refrigerator whole.

Lets live as if heaven is on earth and the dirt on hearth of the
fireplace—
is slowly burning away.

Let’s live as if we are cowboys
and Indians.
Playing peace in the woods
instead of fighting.

Let’s share a feast,
and eat till the least of our worries is the dishes
in the sink.
And the wine-stained rug beneath the dinner chairs feet.

Let’s meet beneath the dark and hold
the arms of uncertainty
until we are certain,

that the only curtain holding us in
is the fear of a dead litany.