Sharp as a razor blade, detaching light
And cutting shadows, shadows. But voices
Do disturb and black strips of sadness blind
Her. Or red lights stinging with passion and
God bedevil her. Love was unnatural,
A bitter compost with night flowers under
Stinging winds. How could she know whether she
Loved you? Her face a white explanation
The garden in the sky was dull and violent
For your visit. Moon walks crazily
Over evening’s purple plants, hanging,
Hanging. She has broken a bone in her mind.
Will she love you? Hospital stands like
Sickness, white silences bandage the mad.
She will see you. She is come. Oh, my love.
Says her mind is clear and follows the sun,
Of despair. You say it does not matter.
It does not matter but she must get well.
The orchard of your heart withers and wilds.
Please will you take her from the hospital?
You cannot and you must not stay too long.
She cries. You watch the tears like slow beetles
Crawl on her cheeks. You love her.
The garden in the sky without its moon.