Possessions
A dove hides in the laurel branches
the veiled sun regrets
your use of his myth as you pile
ephemeral victories, wounded songs
peace colors the underbelly of the tank
Light unbuttons her coat, smiles
as the intravenous drips heartbeats
hunted breaths inside your sickness
gifting you with engraved axiom
Of all you have amassed, none is yours
Overhanging willow’s
green whisper to the lake
something is, then is not
rose blooms summer in your eyes
All ivory-lit verse succumbs to
Light opening her fan as if to speak
an unction before the last drip of syringe
anoints you an inch of yawning column
space
writes on your skin of vanity
Of all you have gathered, none is yours

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