Lily of the Valley

there is a darkness in the spaces
between a frame and the wall, a closet
and the clothes, a painting
and the edges.  there is light

also- gushing from the source
the lightbulb burning through the glass
and the red of your palm.
maybe your bones have had

enough- of the push and pull
of living like you will forever.
and your heart too, because you
won’t. and then, the strain of

your neck- lifting your head always
towards the light. Look harder for the dark,
for the absence of light
will still glow for a while.