light house

some of us cut off our lips & watched
as they turned into gulls & butterflies.
i became the shipwreck captain. told everyone,
"that is not an ocean. not anymore." eagerly,
they accepted. it was a dead god. culling debris,
we found scalpels. used the blades to slice clouds
for ourselves to eat & to cradle. when pillars are falling,
you will want to give everything a name.
daughter & son & lover. the masthead lay like
a bundle of arms. i carried her until her "her"
was gone & it was just wood. in the house we turn off
the light. carry it to the basement. hoard each ray.