Alone in the night, with the lightning away,
Dreams are my weakness; eyes turn this way.
Starlit and floating upon a white dome;
Her soul is a million, and I am the one.

I look up through the window — a stargazer’s stare —
And see in the shadows, alone in the air,
A flaming bright pair, first blue then to brown;
They change in their orbit, and fall to the ground.
A million bright cities alive in the night.
House and houses burn wicks as a rite.
They creak and bend, antique and again
Light up this dome, where starlight descends.

I wake in a shed; The walls paper thin:
Wooden, bending and creaking, soft shudders the wind — 

God snaps the shutter;
I take a portrait.

(August 2005)

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