Narcissus
Echo, you dizzy tramp,
I’m searching for my soul.
Echo, I won’t white picket fence my heart
inside your Jackie bag with brown rusty nails.
I’m searching for my soul.
Mirror images from the train windows kidnap me.
I’m a white hermetic monstrosity
the earth bleeds every spring.
I steal the souls of things with my camera.
O the awful love-pain of water reflections.
O the terrible grace I’m courting.
Confucius, go away.
My Heathcliff gaze finally meets
the white apophyllite eye of my tetragonal soul.
A thousand full moons exfoliate me like a leaf.
Grow my paperwhites in water rather than soil.
Put me next to a bright window before I’m gone.
