To Emily Dickinson

Let's dance, Emily, to the blaring silence, Upon the midnight floor drowning in dust; Let's lay under the moonlight and grow pale As winter in the mountains, as happy ghosts. We must lock the doors and close the shutters To keep alien spirits and the sunlight From entering in; we must swallow the keys And stay here together musing with mice. Write your poems and I'll write mine, let's exchange Them until we become the dust on the floor.