Please don't dance
on the ashes
from these perfect picture
books
of dreams—
whispered and hushed—
belonging to the
midnight breeze
as unseen
flying vermin
scream from trees.

Please don't disturb
the slumber
of high-summer desire
mixed with surry-flesh
and heaping rot,
the dark underside of
questions unfurled,
unasked,
unwanted alongside
this unknowing bliss.

Please don't watch
sharpened incisors
plunge into
aortic naivety—
where one of two
happened along,
staring at the stars,
exposing
the callsign
of virginic ignorance.

12/27/2001

Posted on 12/27/2001
Copyright © 2025 D. Xavier Bari