Mercury slouches

Let the calendar fall to the ground
while I roam in bell darkness.

I feel the slick and pull
of rich coiled earth grab my ankles.
I want the sloe-eyed sleep of Rumplestiltskin.

I am ruptured disk,
captured boomerang,
a piece of god's eruption,
blunt end of suspended trestle,

flavors of moon -
death black and citrus -
the miles a satellite
falls in prayer.