UNTITLED
when the neverday someday comes
and the lovelust bloodrush ceases,
will i still possess a neuron in your gray mind?
and why do i care?
paint my name on you inner eyelids and go on living.
my kaleidoscope never stops spinning-
repeating patterns, but never the same
the iron anchor that was your gaze
has moved out of the light-
and i am fine.
--christine fair