Anne Kellas #11 Never ever ever mist

Never ever ever, mist, never promise.
Just lie vacant, white along the street.
Never ever ever lead me
down blank alleyways, those clear
round blank holes of dark
where some imagine black –
just swirl.
Hold nothing up by your ghost arms
in your tree hands
on your swollen river lips
in the no-light of before day.
Hold your mysterious no-sound
– not silent
but spent
drunk with tears
that bless the pavement
with perfect round diamonds.