when helium racers ran from untied fingers
mesmerized, his eyes carmelized
a secret twin running through the air
2 P.M. on a swooning afternoon
2 nightengales traded for a rusty spoon
sun pressed against a flag undressed
her shadows squealing on the sidewalk
when he slept he came alive
down gingerbread chimneys his soul did dive
combing for honey in street lamps
unclamps the hive, ghosts float in the glass
his brain a spool of film rewinding
visions of blouse sleeves living and dying
teetering on a fishing line of prayer
not there
not there
not there
it's the only time he can hear.
when spoken to, his hand is held
his half yearns to flee, the impulse quelled
his eyes, flickering neon signs, yell
not here
not here
not here
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