Dusk Busking

Sometimes
there's a desperation to live,
give myself over to breath
because death is so close-
it's the ghost in the mirror
and every prayer
makes it clearer,
hair will grow silver
and i will
be a sliver
star-splintered
so now i come summered
with every second summoned,
this hungry tongue electric
tested against the proofs
of such mercurial truths,
guessed with blessings
slipped in twists and kisses,
grace and bits of
colored whispers,
same way snakes
and tape reels
loop with hisses held so holy
in this music looped
medicine business.