Dark Room
Darkness, darkness my room,
darkens me, becomes my Gethsemane garden;
here no one within
except mad shadows
pearly gray,
a strange fire in
candle dream weaver's
mystic rays,
of Harlequin,
its unwoven tapestry
reveals tortured conclusions,
whose heart beats in manic density,
"Dream of the Red Chamber"
bedside reader...no tranquility,
a photograph of her,
Snapdragon begin
with flickering ones
to speak, say:
"Only through Love one feels
pain of time, and makes Time
completely still, end."
