Black Magic

I will give you
black woods,
rain on a Thursday,
dark matter dust, black ice glaze, roots and layers,
dead-end roads running to the tips of your feet,
that corner of the ceiling
that once caught me looking,
fingernails too,
pressing against the earth, endlessly.

I will give you
things you cannot see. Dangerous Things.

Words to open and close The Sky.

I will give you The Hollow.
Space to fill you up.
Eyes to see in the dark.

Don’t worry.
Nothing springs here. Nothing rips.

It’s just us
and the Empty Black River.