this is the three o'clock in the morning
time which i live for. this is the end of all things
when i carry myself to bed,
carefully, like one on a more than acid trip
and in the wee hours, the whole world stretches and time
is like taffy and light is unending and darkness descends
into the dimness of two am
and then
i am amniotic floating into something
onto something
which is
the world of dreaming which is the world
of clear seeing
and maybe clear loving
for just one moment my red heart is exposed
will it ever end, will this be fulfilled
will the one i love come back to me?
and then i know
if it will be done, if will be done in this moment
if you were come back to me, it will have to be here
in the gold abyss or not at all
if there is to be a home it must be this
stretched out one, hot and pulled out,
burning like glass
seeing as God made the world at three
in the morning