shard(ing)

because what is not lost

cannot be found, I have been lo(o)sing

myself, atom by atom, into prayers, 

into the wind, like incense—crawling

the atmosphere to get caught by the infinite 

shimmers of god’s eyes, to unearth this home 

of embered grace from my hands. to 

unwind a chest from catastrophe. to reincarnate

a universe of blooming lilacs—

hoping the roads &  tunnels & darkness

really house an eden of light

in their stomachs, because all I now dream of 

is the apocalypse that inherits waiting: 

a tale rattling into fading cities where 

I watch myself take shape with waters 

as much as I take shape with the wind.

I mean, a boy tarnishing into a dearth of breath

where the only difference is always

his voice(lessness) in a disaster ravaging

like a cold war. so,

here’s me sharding into dusk’s ear, again,

as a prayer/poem/song, dancing ballet 

with emptiness. to be found as a wanderer. loosely 

listening to my body’s chaos, sinking

into the canticle of hope unwrapping

from the cathedral of my brittle body.