Leave the Daylight Alone

Crush the moon into a silver bowl
Stir the shadow till it loses hold
Seven drops from the crooked glass
One for the future
Six for the past

Mercury sleeps in the mortar
Mercury dreams in the stone
Turn the wheel a little farther
Leave the daylight alone

Green smoke climbing up the wall
Tiny bells where the black seeds fall
Someone laughing beneath the floor
Count to nine
Then count no more

Mercury sleeps in the mortar
Mercury dreams in the stone
Turn the wheel a little farther
Leave the daylight alone

Salt in the circle
Ash in the flame
Call every color
Without giving names

The spoon bends slowly
The candles lean
A door opens sideways
Where no door has been

Drink from nothing
Speak to the glass
Watch every minute
Refuse to pass

Mercury sleeps in the mortar
Mercury dreams in the stone
Turn the wheel a little farther
Leave the daylight alone

Red becomes violet
Violet becomes sound
The ceiling is breathing
The roots leave the ground

One eye open
One eye gone
The room keeps turning
After the song

Mercury wakes in the mortar
Mercury walks through the stone
Turn the wheel a little farther
And leave the daylight alone

Black honey at midnight
Black honey in the bowl
Turn the spoon against the glass
Until it takes its toll

Three drops for the candle
Two drops for the stone
One drop for the little wheel
That turns when left alone

Black honey at midnight
Dark upon the flame
Do not taste it with your tongue
Do not give it any name

Copper on the left hand
Salt upon the right
Hold the bowl beneath the smoke
Until the smoke turns white

Black thread through the honey
White ash through the thread
Count the bells behind the wall
And never turn your head

Black honey at midnight
Black honey in the bowl
Turn the spoon against the glass
Until it takes its toll

One flame low
One flame high
One flame where the shadow lies

Turn it once
Turn it twice
Do not ask the glass for advice

Black honey at midnight
Slow beneath the skin
When the little wheel stops turning
Turn the little wheel again

Black honey at midnight
Black honey in the flame

Do not taste it

Do not name it

Do not name it

Sulphur in the looking glass
Black thread in the flame
Turn the water seven times
Never say its name

Three grains on the windowsill
Two beneath the tongue
One for what has not begun
One for what is done

Sulphur in the looking glass
Yellow in the black
Face the mirror to the wall
Do not turn it back

Copper wire
Ashen bowl
Smoke goes upward
Shadow goes below

Left hand empty
Right hand cold
Let the little iron wheel
Turn until it folds

Something knocks behind the glass
Once
And then again

Do not answer with your mouth
Answer with the rain

Sulphur in the looking glass
Yellow in the black
Face the mirror to the wall
Do not turn it back

Salt on stone
Stone on skin
Count the room from outside in

Four
Three
Two
None

The glass has kept
What we have done

Sulphur in the looking glass

Do not look

Until it clears

Three inches left of the room
Three inches left of the wall
Three inches between my shoulder
And nothing there at all

Salt beneath the windowsill
Ash beneath the chair
Someone moved the corners in
While no one else was there

Three inches left of the room
Do not touch the door
Every time the candle bends
There is a little more

Count the boards from left to right
Count them back again
Seven when the lamp was lit
Six when it began

Copper nail
Blackened thread
One above
And one beneath the bed

Turn the glass
Against the flame
Watch the room
Forget its shape

Three inches left of the room
Three inches left of air
Keep your hands beside your knees
And do not move the chair

The ceiling dropped an inch at nine
The floor rose half at ten
At eleven all the pictures
Turned their faces in

One line chalk
One line salt
If the walls come closer
It is not our fault

Do not measure
Do not mark
Do not light
The second spark

Three inches left of the room
Two inches from the stone
Something on the other side
Is counting on its own

Three
Two
One

No room

Only the mortar
Only the flame
Only the little wheel
Turning without a name

Three inches left of the room

Three inches

Two

One

Glass flowers under my tongue
White roots behind my teeth
Do not pull them upward
Let them grow beneath

One petal tastes of copper
One petal tastes of rain
One turns black at midnight
One remembers pain

Glass flowers under my tongue
Do not make me speak
Every word will cut the stem
Every breath will make them weak

Salt upon the lower lip
Ash upon the palm
Hold the little silver cup
Until the room is calm

Red thread through the candle smoke
Green thread through the glass
If the flowers start to ring
Do not let them pass

Glass flowers under my tongue
Cold against the bone
Seven bells inside my mouth
Ringing on their own

Bite the stem
Taste the light
Keep the left eye closed tonight

Turn the bowl
Turn it slow
Let the hidden color show

One flower opens backward
One flower drinks the flame
One flower has no shadow
One flower knows my name

Glass flowers under my tongue
White roots in the dark
Do not swallow
Do not speak
Do not strike the second spark

Copper
Salt
Glass
Stone

Petal
Root
Blood
Bone

Glass flowers under my tongue
Glass flowers in the air
I close my mouth

They are still ringing there

Wormwood on the silver thread
Three knots above the flame
Hold the needle in the smoke
And never give it a name

Black seed in the left hand
White salt in the right
Turn the little wooden wheel
Until it swallows light

Wormwood on the silver thread
Green fire in the bowl
Seven turns around the glass
One turn around the soul

Bitter leaf
Copper spoon
Cut the shadow
From the moon

One drop
Two
Then none

Do not stop
When it has begun

There is a bell beneath the floor
There is a bell inside the wall
There is a bell behind my teeth

Do not answer
When they call

Wormwood on the silver thread
Green fire in the bowl
Seven turns around the glass
One turn around the soul

Tie the first knot for the body
Tie the second for the name
Tie the third around the candle
Till the smoke forgets the flame

Yellow dust
Across the stone
Little wheel
Turn alone

The room grows long
The room grows thin
Something waits
Where the thread goes in

Wormwood on the silver thread
Do not let it break

If the final knot comes loose
Do not let it wake

Green fire
Black glass
Silver thread
Let it pass

Wormwood on the silver thread

Turn

Turn

Turn

Nine candles under water
Nine flames burning blue
Nine candles under water
One of them is you

Black bowl on the table
Salt around the rim
Lower every candle
Till the room grows dim

First flame for the left hand
Second for the right
Third for every shadow
That refuses light

Nine candles under water
Nine flames burning blue
Nine candles under water
One of them is you

Fourth beneath the black glass
Fifth beneath the stone
Sixth where no reflection
Ever comes alone

Seven for the silent bell
Eight for what it knows
Nine for what is waiting
Where the dark water goes

Nine candles under water
Do not let them die
Do not lift the final flame
Do not ask it why

Blue fire under black water
Black water under skin
Turn the bowl a little farther
Let the deeper room begin

One flame bends
One flame shakes
One flame burns
For every mistake

Nine candles under water
Nine flames in a line

Count them once

Count them twice

There are ten this time

Nine candles under water
Nine flames burning blue

Do not count again

Do not count again

Do not count again

Leave the daylight alone
Leave the curtain where it is
There is work beneath the table
There are names inside the fizz

Black salt in the saucer
White ash in the glass
Turn the little iron wheel
And let the morning pass

Leave the daylight alone
It has nothing here to find
Keep the candle to the left
Keep the window to the mind

Three drops for the silence
Two drops for the flame
One drop for the empty chair
That answers to no name

Green smoke at the ceiling
Red dust on the stone
If the sun comes through the curtain
Do not let it in alone

Leave the daylight alone
Leave the daylight outside
Every color tells the truth
Until the room is wide

The mortar turns
The water hums
The little wheel
Becomes

No word
No hand
No face
No land

Only glass
Only flame
Only something
Without a name

Leave the daylight alone

We have not finished yet

Leave the daylight alone

The stone is turning

Still