the one white eye
raises its lips
to the darkness
from a dusty corner
looking for the tombs
of dead stars,
looking suspicious,
looking like a broken bowl
in a furnished room

a shadow grows from the hollow
hump of an old life
it walks alone
in the empty space
ashes inherit
before heaven
closes tightly
into a fist

drinking candlelight
it narrows back
from the rim of light
echoing into a single
black eye

before the moon,
afraid to open her door,
is suddenly swallowed by the dark waters
of the sun