For Jane

225 days under grass
and you know more than I
they have long taken your blood,
you are a dry stick in a basket.
is this how it works?
in this rooms
the hours of love
still makes shadows.

when you left
you took almost
everything.
I kneel in the nights
before tigers
that will not let me be.

what you were
will not happen again.
the tigers found me
and I do not care.

~Charles Bukowski