Intentions

Unplaced relations don’t adhere
and can make the reflection in the mirror
only a matte wall behind
where you thought you stood.

Where ghosts are the fear
in the night, in daytime
it’s airtight pools of water

until diving head first
carrying your own oxygen
once strength has tied
to your fledgling limbs.

Earthy evolution-
mucky and conglomerate-
has not allowed
a sole living thing
to be a floating lens,

an algid surface of a planet
with orbiting curios
of moons and icy rings.

Instead we can look down
and see our socks off,
wiggles of toes,
then at night, out in the yard,

a halo of stars around
a raised hand made of boreal fires.

Celestial constellations outline
the thrust of personal
recognition that begins

with the scopic placement
of a self in tenor,
which includes the smudges

of solar flares
and that something
on past the reach
of darkening Charon,

beyond anywhere,
anyone can feel or see anything.