FULL MOON ON TOP OF A CHAMPAGNE PALM'S TIP

i am making markers
i drop a stone and leave it there
when i do not do that
i will soon forget and it will be too

unfair for that flint, that spark,
that distant star, muted in the sky,
i should have been sleeping by now
beside her snore, but there is a firefly
lost in the space between my blanket and
the ceiling. It has no power to speak.
it glitters like a diamond in distress,
if i catch it, it will be dead, if i don't
it will just fly away, find an exit somewhere,
and i will be at a loss, destined to
be forgotten. And so here i am with a
stone, marking the spaces, hoping
that when i wake up, upon a dream,
i shall remember. And then i will soon
very very soon, write it. I know this
stone. I have mastered its stoic silence.