What rough animal runs
through the veins
of the sun tonight?

What flashing eyes
behind the fevered
greens and blues
predict our dreams?

Damn! Come into
your other side,
against the wall
of pain. What force
erupts to push us through?

No one sleeps
when the world is ending.
No one dies
except in dreams.

Strip yourself of nakedness
and fall back into
waters rippling as your clothes.

Clothe yourself
in emptiness--and endings
holding on inside the sun.

What makes us think
the stars are there,
when one by one
they go out
and we see?