a mote

i.

a mote
devoid
birds fall

doom wrought planet
the snow depressive
celestial melancholy

this imbalance
a
point

ii.

look
that’s home

sinner species
a mote

our posturing
pale
lonely

save us

our place
to exist
in
disaster

What I’m Reading:

“Again the
day begins, only
no one wants its sanity
or its blinding clarity. Daylight is
not what we came all this way for.”

— Philip Levine / “The Second Going”