(a trifle)

For a moment I believed that I existed.
But then the heavy neon sagged my brain.
And while the antelope of summer came inside
Our living room, and kicked up dust and flame,
I saw the angels stomping in the starfields,
And dancing like poured water through the pain.
For a moment I forgot that I am meaningless.
But then I felt a hand insignia’d with a rubeus
Punctum me ushering to claim,
And realized that everything but faces, hearts,
And sacrifice are false. But these are stone
Of stone and prime of prime. The ancient youth
Which notifies that hunger yelps for meat,
And turns my feeble into firmament,
While Nothing is adopted into Great.