to find I hurt not even in heart
will take a lamp with me, a satellite center with no sharp edges
peaches too, staccato against the milky gray
I will whisper, lips on orangered skin, promise never to rot
I can’t help my adoration, core of me a deep bluegreen
worry I’m a word spoken but not yet heard
that question of arrival
there, I’ve done it again
eyes desparate and dilated
seductive flash of reflection
and I’m blind