I follow the story-lines of your hair
in photographs. Tracing the sources of
stream tendrils. Making my way back to
the original kiss. Asking the universe
to contract. Let’s reserve a table in
a future restaurant. An advertisement
in a foreign place. Paperweight heart.
Your lessons in film-making, driving.
Navigation being the hardest part. We
could animate our own dreams. Powers
swirling in our star charts. I follow
the newspapers each Friday afternoon.
They lead me to a place where love is
a large explosion. I’m feeling lucky.