What The Sky Smoothes Out Poem by gregory collins

Forgetting beauty, will break you in half with
the right look, like light cauterizing darkness

and spinning my soul like a top on mirrors
that sob away in pockets of time. And if i had

only the courage to crawl out of her eyes
dreaming, maybe remembering the stars are

above billions of lovers; Billions like the sound
of purple was invented by love: Because of

what is happening. The earth has rolled her
shirt into a little pillow like a good, unknown

poet. Happy that she can rest comfortably after
rolling joints by the thousands. The fact that

the sky could rip an abyss to be carried along
by anyone; To be torn into pieces and have a

compass that actually can grab hold of the
silence. Actually smothered by what the sky

smoothes out, and what this dream thinks
about your soul, and the great rose that won't

sleep: That forest i saw in your eyes, that let's
me paint the night and its silver entrails backwards.