find a word, a way

through, latent


developer of sentiment.

the chemical that courses


through divides also

the negative. the visual


radial like primary

colors. crystal.


inversed, the word

all but breaks


the shadow not

yet image, door, gate—


now taste the tea. a gape

in your mouth. sediment.


sense a lie. dear one, I

thought all in prisms.


still, they don’t show up

here. amiss, I turn


in turn. nothing

but sky.


*previous version of this poem published in Unlikely Stories