Night and Day
 

Like battered egg whites
the day shifted light
on its yolkless claws. Without
weight -
clinging to the brown sugar
batter
of night, where moods are thickly
transparent -
and Greek is a gaze-spoken language
unlocked
but not deciphered.
Whisked into yeasty hours of
pupil mating
that dissolve like meringue
on the tongue,
and are devoured by
the dawn.