Collision

the power of this poetess is awesome and inspiring

THOTPURGE

Darkness stumbled in,
bruised and bleeding black;
there had been a collision, they said,
due west of the horizon,
with a stubborn day,
drunk on the fast lane,
unwilling to leave.

His wagon had tipped over;
dream shards scratched the purple sky;
sacks of sleep stretched and yawned,
floated away in passing cloud tubs;
but passion lay where it had fallen,
its mood deflated,
its eyes empty of need.

Light streamed in
through his shredded skin
seeking wide open eyes;
fevered minds tossed,
restive, awake,
dreamless
in their solitary beds.

But this night
that has turned up empty-handed,
that cannot turn off the day;
what good can come of such a night
that left my last dream
screaming
on a starlit highway?

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