Kuriosities

This night, overbrimmed with
wishes, cannot sleep. Clamours,
rises from the trees raucous as
crows. The moon, the sea,
swell, are too full, roll
and bump into the cupped edge
of skull, seek release, seek

secrets that must
never be, whispered, perch
behind teeth, pry at the bars
of their containment.

This night brazen and still
holds only the small-beating
tumult and crash
of a careening heart,
making itself known thump
once bump
and for all. thump