What is black in the heart
is ice in the mind
and covers the front of the mind
like a hand over the heart.
What is true in the stomach
is crooked in the eye
and loosens a string from the eye
into the great bilge of the stomach.
What is gray in art
is dead in the day
like a fixture rooted to day
during a grand stampede of art.
What is broken in the light
is trusted in silence
and ruins the answers of silence
like a gun fired into light.