it was midnight when the moon broke the sky
into two pieces. i was dreaming in chinese and
a sampan was vanishing in emptiness.
my father walked along the beach, utterly unconcerned
with the crack across the sky

"no point in telling the dead about dying", he said,
"love is akin to breakers and the sound of the sea",
and hand in hand with my son, he vanished beneath the waves.

that's when under the southern half of the broken sky,
i could feel you comforting me--
your lips on my hair, my head tucked
under your chin, your arms tight around me.
you were clothed in bright light; i was dressed
in shadow.

summer has spent itself like a plague
and i've been brushed by its quick green wings.
i have known no other shape than that which
contained me --i had fallen for your voice

just as a mirror falls in love with the lake
like a folded rorschach.   buoyancy was all
that ever made the water bearable
now my heart sank in the water like a stone.

i sat by the fierce moon and sobbed in the glass box
of my memory.  "i'm sorry but  i can't stand this," i said.
just tell me why you stopped loving me".

in the dream i had a dream
that you would be warm to the touch
and that's where i left it for the time being--
there is nothing else to do but wait
in the swell of your remaining.

your voice fell away from my ear.
even if i had walked out to the edge
of my half of the broken sky,

even if i had begged for help from the moon

you wouldn't have come.