In July, there were tigers
walking through the mansion
breathing. Particles of dark
matter do not stop flowing
through us, though
they remain undetected by our senses.
It’s not enough.
In July, tigers
and fire, listen, listen
as much as you can.
We are floating in darkness
though the truth: it is
only the perception of darkness.
Into the tiger’s amber eyes,
past the mountains,
past the fire,
listen
as much as you can.
Roseheads strung between
Our lips, they brush up
against the dark matter.
The only way to get
how the tiger moves is
to be the mansion.
Surrender