And The Tribes That Were Before

A Hayden quartet grows so intricate in the
Darkness. You want only to feel the night
Rain as it discloses itself to you on the roof.

It has never been so simple to love as
It is now, in the moments before you fall
Asleep, only to return each morning to dying.

People give off a kind of light like ghosts,
But you’ve never understood it:
How we can be so strange, so divine.

And we’ll have to wait until a new emotion comes,
And preserves our nakedness in salt. When we cry,
We will have realized what we have lost.