Oneirology

I can't buy you a black heart; you already have mine

I will buy you black dahlias for when you soon return

When the jacks top the pile and the judges adjourn

I'll play you a tune, strum empty air in my theremin

You'll be blushing carnation posy, a flushed melanin

.

I will buy you black kittens for when you can recede

When the auctioneers play their life, into the final bid

I'll slay you a djinn, make xanthene stars disappear

You'll be drowning in silver, and drinking day-old beer

.

I will buy you black shoes for when you jig and show up

When the most futile of molasses spill over the cusp

I'll relay a broken melody, perhaps a lost Liberace score

You'll be avoiding tears on the checkered linoleum floor

.

I will buy you black scarves to keep you arterial blood warm

When the conspiracies falter and gypsies lose their charm

I'll pray you a stale Angelus, and wait for the Lord to rapture

You'll be standing in an open field, await your inevitable capture

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I will buy you black snow for when you finally find your way back home

When I accept the fact you're quiescent, resting under loam and stones

I'll drink my hot eggnog, open presents of shadows, and solemnly remember

You'll be cold and white as winter, just as my soul is in this solitary December.