All the nameless things in the night

Here is something to love sweetly uphill, at last

The dark houses have abandoned this kingdom of wrong turns

Only here and there, you will see clothes blowing on a line,
pinned by those who have forgotten to gather the witchcraft
bodies wear to greet each other

You crouch and watch the flickering shapes of families fill with wind

Through backyards the quietest beasts go

Such psalms of hunger
Doll tracks in the snow
where a lonely child has distorted images

Following the railroad tracks the trains have forgotten

A sort of crushed white stone glows as you walk on it

You want to please the night the way these dark leaves do

Whispering over themselves in the millions you hear

The desire for the night to become one endless thing

Not a being, but frustrated, it creases shadows until they disappear

Every time you look at your hand, its skin coating a pulsing web

Lies brightly, says, you could probably live here