Longing
I awake in the monumental darkness.
No memories of confusion striding
in bitter palaces, but dreams
of love and long letters written
to a girl in a green land,
the dark horizontal land where I lived.
The hanging clouds, the winged clouds,
the shells of clouds, skies like her eyes,
like blue unfilled pages and pages
of longing, unfilled thoughts
out of the serpentine heart,
unfilled looks out of the eyes
that held the hills.