from my window
I can see heaven --
moonless, with clouds like so many
tufts of ostentatious lint
on an inkwell sky .

but Before
that paltry midnight,
so was heaven --
clear, with sliver paint chips
splashed all across God's canvas

and I am just the background --
boxed in my ignominy,
my uncurtained window,
my pitiful mortality,
I am Tainting, obscuring
all this aesthetic Heaven.