His hands are shaking like a Hallelujah breathless on the tongue
He doesn't know who he is
Cannot relate to the way feet sound pounding over linoleum,
Over hard wood over pavement over a thousand bodies
laying breathless in a sheet of grass

He brings his coffee mug close to his face
Closes his eyes
His blue eyes that he can hardly stand to keep open;
His hands are shaking like lightening against your bedroom window,
like something holy dying on your lips.