Star of the morning, collapsed in the weeds.
There won’t be time to wake the others.
There was something you were hiding, on the night you ran away.
Forgetting the sea — detail from 'Cold Shore'
It passed outside your window on a night you couldn't sleep — a phantom burning black against the house across the street.
Something buried years ago lies burning still beneath the snow.
You feel you've been here, once before — a memory that was not quite yours.
Strange roadside buildings where you shouldn’t ever go.
Spinning through a darkened sky — a colder star, a brighter eye.
Up above, the haunted glow of the Anti-Tourism Bureau.
Blurry eyes, always looking back.
You hear it in the trees at night — a snapping branch, a sigh.