THE ROOMS OF NIGHT

9A3B849B-A6CA-43C5-8E7A-C6F0F31F80A6I walk through the rooms of night
and arrive at a dawn clipped
with forgetfulness

With moons and death
in my pockets
and full of winter shred

I notice my bare feet are numb
and without purpose

Yet my tracks in the snow
mark my path from somewhere

And though it feels cold
a trickle of blood melts into
the stark white
evidencing its warmth
convinced it is life

Some big heart must be leaking.

I’ve even forgotten the premise
of yesterday’s grand feast

And tomorrow is so far away
I cannot even feign to paint hope
on my eyelids
scarred from memory’s frost

Why can’t I find today?

Did they even put one on
or have they too forgotten?

Have I misplaced it
or did the storm steal it away?

No matter, the time has come
to empty my pockets
and join the ranks
of the zombie parade

To have succumbed, finally, not
to some bold virus,
but to the utter
mundane

Not having a mirror, I cannot see
but if I were to guess the shape of my eyes
the left would be nowhere
and the right would be an empty cup

Have I misplaced them
or did some sly storm steal them away?