Bliss forgot how to bury
people I left. Someone’s dreams
kept the lamp full blue. They say
I vanished into laughter—

a closed river, caught water.
I still wait at the event
horizon in the moon’s dark.

Never alone, out of hope.
Out of blame, I no longer
hum between unopened glass
panels. Always the same, I

still wait at the warning shaped
like a kicked-in door, my room—
pictures without walls, a ceiling.