At three in the morning
the sky misplaced its face
Stars fell into the streets
like spilled salt
and the moon
that old silver coin
rolled beneath the city
Nobody noticed
Except the windows
Every window opened one eye
A thousand eyes
Not to watch me
no
To remember
The first remembered a boy
the second, a buried letter
the third, a war without a name
the fourth, a kiss
the fifth, the lie after it
By the hundredth
memory had become a country
By the thousandth
I could no longer tell
what I had lived
and what had lived through me
Then one opened beneath my ribs
By morning
the sky had found its face
I looked up
It had my eyes
All thousand of them
