Poem: 14

Your heart full of glass Still beats It's as if there were a keyhole On an invisible space Between your shoulder wings What turns it on or off The willing

Last night I dreamt Of a Russian in a polyester suit 80's style, bright, big I held his aging hand His slicked back black dyed hair A government official I was sad but I wanted him

And there was the sea Churning on and on Green clean and glorious