planet
heaven is
tugging at the mind,
light of the mind,
like a solar system
whatever, the mind
makes, unmakes, its boundaries,
the black skin of a storm cloud
ripped by lightning
see here, the clerk's shirt has a button down collar,
his jacket corduroy, his trousers cuffed and pleated.
these are his place, his arena for navigating systems, tides,
even the occasional eclipse,
as if all that comes settled or unsettled
may be thumbnailed, may be hooked
by the hour, the day, the life
her body spun by his lovemaking.
her body no longer, no longer the place
but passing through it she cried, and her
crying
collapsed the shapes of possibilities, the
weave of energy
traced and lost at the sub-atomic level
and
downward flew, not to place
that
knows the matter with borders,
but
nowhere, by random interchange
In seeInlng waves,
she
cried out
nothing
that matters,
of
is certain, or solid
so the mind storms in its orbit,
through images that are not facts,
through
memories that are not facts,
ringed by gravity, crossing the web of heaven
the
unthreaded thread, following the light
the
mind that falls
from
its lovemaking