unfinished

In this dying light
I want to tell
You a story
With no
Beginning middle
Or end.

At the end
Of the day pink light
Infuses the middle
Of the room. You tell
Me no
One tells you stories.

Tonight, a bedtime story
Will end
The evening. No
Words, only light
Can speak, tell
You there is no middle

Or beginning. In the middle
Of the night, a story
Emerges untold
So that its ending
Eludes the light
Answers no

To every question, no
Exceptions. The middle
Of a moment fills with light
Silently composes a story
Inside the body, the ending
Begins in fingertips, tells

The narrative once, retells
It again and again, no
Break in the unending
Line, beginning middle
Melody. The story
Spoken in layers of light

Light beneath skin tells
One broken story in breathless no’s
Leaves out both the middle and the end.