Cold Night

The night which is cold the darkness which is infinite. Friend of all thoughts and fame of all faults. Memories we watch like Shakespeare's vision. Celestial dancer who threw me from heaven. (She told God that I jumped.) Turned around, so they could see the tears. The tattered hand. Reaching for yours. You held onto god And I fell. Exhaling smoke, like a mirror staring back. Laughing as it dissolves. Or laughing as I dissolve. Never solved. Like I never saw a thing. Only Shakespeare's vision Played out in the eyes. Looking for you, Under the little flowers Stuck in the dust The dust we're made of. The dust she danced on. But they don't die with us. They move with her. As in Shakespeare's memory. But in Shakespeare's version, I was the dancer, and you were the fucking darkness I let go of you.