is it not possible to think
as sentient clouds watch over
heaving the light above
and cradling the moon at night
that we are each dropped from our
separate stars into one dissimilar sea
and could be made to be partnered together
between our connections in the sky-
those white projections on an otherwise blacktop
a scenery remaining for all time
and our pictures drawn between-
is it not plausible that these lines put forth
from you and I, could be one and the same
predictions, events and their coursing
wading through streams of the night
and ships to be stayed in their sight
could be others pointing fair to a piece cut out
shimmering and true
seen through squinting eyes
that all life could spring from this and these,
the eternal well, with each of our pennies
picked out to lay beside one another
glimmering amidst the watery black-
in such a worth that we must be given
and henceforth traded back;
lest we each be restless random pieces
archived in necessity, in mass collections
and passed around ‘til our time has come
to be snuffed out beneath celestial canopy,
rushing through one another in these vessels
aside an endless ocean, a vase pouring water
into the depths of nowhere
without a stem above to be seen?
could the photograph of the sun not be placed in the sea
in that each negative must develop
for the positive to appear in this screen?
pushed through the sands under the periscopic moon
to be revealed finally
and held above in the greatest castles,
to catch the sail of the four winds
be rolled into the tremendous boulders
and moved by their subsequent mountains
so that we may polish all this time
and finally fall, and be laid by one another
and encircle our hands, aside the star shining
amidst where there was once the black hole tethered
by which shackles become engagement to a lover.