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He hung in the sky as deep gold in the streetlights,

it was like looking at all the broken windows in New York,

one night I decided I’d had enough,

I scooped him up like beach sand in my palms,

I was kisses traveling on the wings on fleas

of this world and the next,

I thought I said love. Maybe I said death.

I am not dead yet but I know I am dead. It is inevitable.

I shed ghost tears all day long and in my sleep,

the sky’s heart glows ghostly white,

and every ballerina beautifully falls

into another dimension,

and then the damned captain laughs