Vanishing

I give you my rain, 

the verbs and clatter from which there is no returning. 

I give you my siren, my hymns, my psalms. 

I give you maps, the crevice from which my cities have fallen. 

I give you the small country of my laughter. 

I give you lights parsing through lives, the fleeting 

moth of days, my hours of beseeching. 

I give you my private animals. 

I give you the night hours from which I wake a city of salt.