wormholed night . . .
I sleep past the ends
of my dreams
tadpole galaxy— 
I eavesdrop on the drama
played out before us
us and them
taking the unknown
personally
star risen night— 
the depth of longing
still in me
ripe onion— 
the outer roundness
of her belly
datastore . . .
virtual shadows
of my self
moving water . . .
my shadow laps at
the edges
cloudless day . . .
so much harder to see
what lies hidden
burnt offering— 
the move from holocaust
to Holocaust
cicada,
what secret are you
drenching me in?
string theory— 
another mosquito
sounds me out
spirit wind— 
mosquitoes zero
in on me
paper wasps . . .
facial recognition
sets us apart
year of light . . .
our eyes strain away from
this scorching earth
distant gong— 
the toll life is taking
out of me
life cycle
one revolution
complete