Broto, the spirit of the night

You'll find me after party

Or floating in my bathtub

You always try to overwhelm me

making me see through my life.

See mom’s aging face and hands with barren wrinkles

See the door I slammed open and the broken words I left behind

See that man's speeding-away car, the dust, the disappearing love

in the rear-view mirror

See the lie of separation--togetherness.

And then you'll go quietly into hiding

Lurking in my wound

You burn my room

Leaving me a black ceiling

I guess that's your way.

So I can barely

awake

alive.