It’s a full moon
tonight in the rivers
of our daylight with

as much shadow as
can greet water,
we may retain the rays

of our craters, the
currents of our thought,
the cast of photons

transferred across shade
beneath the hand which cups an ocean
and the lines of sparkle that

bend in the shape of dimples
on a hard surface of running
atomic particles

to wear the mask of personality
and glance from beneath a sycamore
under a wave of

glass dazzled triangles,
the turn in the grace of counter top
without legs and marching

swirls of pre
molecular mole-beds
with their faces on and their

eyes all twitchy
those are trees
those are wires shaking

hands in the smashed
kaleidoscope, circles in, revolve
over kitchen ligaments

stalking hurricane
in half-mass made squirrel-sleep
with indentations in their skulls for looking

swat at those leaves of abandonment
the electric silence
jittery beneath knuckles

vase, shelves, window
little hole to watch through round the
broom thistle limbic notch

traces evacuate
clouds from acquiring rodent dreams
as pressed thumbs imprint bone-white

skeletal-systematic batting
as ethic
within palm-hush

sky-print, books, and
transparent ant clutch spying
through a bullet-space

pan rubbing liver stitch
over see-through paper exit
rain upon totem vermin painting

fingers with nailed
wings the judged
empty wick

remains without pigment
full, as an over flowing basin
of shadow the

water of daylight, moon-ray
craters sprinkling onto

5 thoughts on “Sprinkling

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