hemispheres

//

                                                   a golden shovel

 i lift the darkness that lamps eclipse. my hemisphere
folds, unfolds. my eyes are asteroids, are clocks that tick one
big black blink, a laughing shutter. my teeth clap, you fall. she meets
each piece with curiosity. from this poison my hot hemisphere
splits. alleluia, the light. ground divides the world in two.
why sulk for the girl who, lost on her own, servers her thoughts?
how alabaster the tower. the way the wrist flips switch, a twist
in the notch of the neural node casting the corpus apart.
decode my flimsy flesh. gooey, we’re starlings adrift at
the pinpoint interstice where fumbling axis meets the
maker. for this, i slip into a new shade. my center
ruptures for candied story. like the child who sucks the seam
of a baby blanket, sweet rolls over onto everything.
what are we if not sugar? you smother my inside
voice to pieces. the sound: a mindspace split is