for a while

trying to write the light
all night
            trying to get it
            right.

memorizing the way your shadows
shaded something that seemed
already to be
so dark--
too dark to see.

and your voice
and your laughter
pushing against and after
the falling lids

as breathing hardens into
softness and relaxes
into the right
night light
can't seem to write.

whisper:
keep finding bits of you
in pockets
in spaces between my shirts
                                    sheets
in drawers
where you hid before

needle point
stop and start
give it a shot
give up your heart--