point of contact/lacuna




momentary capture leans into foreshadow.


a firefly blinks††††††††† once & away.


so thus

it becomes thought once

rearranged again

when ††††††††† what perplexed me fades.


every time it becomes a different type of letting go


chore of one half-turn

from disbelief to where it all started


like a watercolor stain


plaiting rough edges

the way eclipses ††††††

recalculate polarity.


there are no other choices when desire

is inherent ††††††††† within the cellular structure --


even snow-laden crags blush ††††††††† when it has begun


so the path currents take

are secondary to their precipitation.


iíve no voice

to delve into.


past lives ripple out to lap my feet.


itís almost enough to say:


forget the loblolly & as for

bougainvilleasĖ theyíve no sense


for direction†† ††††††††† circumnutating leash catch so that †††††††††

back and forth


takes on yet another reverse movement.


could this be what mis-remembering is like? †††††††††


††††††††† ††††††††† the way you hit a dry patch †††† ††††††††† kicking the wind & calling it


star threading fragile ground --


sparking a mile away

when otherwise (nothing happened.)


not a return

nor an evolution.


your face reads the same to me

but not the recollection.


if not for

the spaces within i would let my fingers dangle.


if asked i would say:

this is the least of the whole

curve of shadow

where the sphere falters.



tuning my ear to small vibrations


i was fooled again into thinking


it was the train and not the jugular.

for a brief moment one breath

†††††††††††††††††† †††††††††††††††††† ††††††††† ††††††††† taken.


& then, something else

within the tumult


moon sunk low under the horizon line.


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