Nurse for the dead I know yr'e dance, like I know the sky Why I try to sigh and die beyond me, is monastic bald prayerings. draw my bath a sweet smell then draw me inside, under the water gazing up at you. love hands tight around my thick neck breaking my lips and parting solid words to surface again & again. Count me lucky and I will count you out. And they will count us in. 1..2..3... A door swings Wack! Wack! Hard wind prying in Out the window a dog flys by then an old lady knitting the sound of dirt on wood Mi words soft, cellular forever working their way back to yu. Sometimes, I wonder who I am. Often, I can't forget. We are a segueing. We are yes we are are we yes An Emeralding midnight drive. A dark green unstrung Spanish guitar solo At a Social Club Buena Vista. A Mother & Son A consummate tango. Columbian neck tie.