From This Life To The Next Poem by gregory collins

We lie together in silence, and time
is doubled. It grinds its teeth like sleeping grass,

and is certainly not the last thing to believe in.
But the bullets of tears fly, holding the dusk

there in the web. Where you are frowning
like the dome of a hearse. Cutting up like

cigarette smoke into pieces. Shouting my thoughts
are drunk. Wave after wave of my mind left wet

by kisses. But i am used to seeing the name
of Autumn crying. I am just hoping

with my lonely boat of tears, i can once again
feel the tenderness of your wharf. Where

i can wait under your fingernail, warm and well.
Where i pull grass from a garden of sadness.

Because we fear each other. We are seeds
in the pocket in the shirt of a newborn.

We are the shadow splashing into a deep well,
and i would hate to peck until my face is pocked,

with tears making love. Like what are you really
looking for? What dream fires a gun to fall asleep.