the corners of stars behind clouds
and the sun levels outs its corners
to make the message more clear
I remember that I've forgotten names
Memory is lucid: faces without names
names without faces, enemies, loves
and what I really meant when I swore
to Edna that her infatuations were
safe enough to hold on while crossing
to death. Prayers are feeble under light
whether the light of Hell or the light of
the levelled-out Sun, and disappointments
are easier with every lonely second in bed.
But are resurrected ambitions vivid as were
the hopes of salvation of love and do
we forget what we've sworn or prayed
for every time we look into the sun
as does Edna with hers?
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