i. spirare
before i knew blindness
like this
comely
rhythmic
and mournful
caring
only for the
pulse
for the drum
the drummer
bodhran

i used to take
the time
to count in sevens
when all i could see
was there
simply
my love

the color of your eyes is red

ii. ludi
if you think
there was anything
innocent
about the way i
traded myself out
for words
fragile
and fragments
of vigorous color
hanging
half-moon
suspended lithe
and moblie

my knucklebones
are too smooth
for sport
if they were dry
and flat
perfect like chaff and silk
i would be left over
left whole
skeletal
with only myself

and my eyes a bloodshot red

iii. ad infinitum

the time for
c-sharp minor
steely
braided
taut and useless
is over
my swan

wear that ring
around your neck
like a warrior
gold
glass
pride or
polished
sanguine
bronze

a color very much like red