a porcelain
tower
showers her face
in light
and throws
her
hands to the blue.
In a foggy afternoon sleep
she dreams of
circuitry kisses
and in
the open throat
of night
she glows under
sodium flares
and phosphorescent
lakes of fire.
There is
a thick and tall
jail-bar shadow behind
her growing presence
in the sand sea
of desert.
Here, hiding in it is
a beetle
of black empty space,
coursing
in the sand
with legs of
oblivious nothing
and sleek wings of
zero.
