Satellite

Watching satellites gasp and trail across the night,

like silverfish alive beneath stairs

or scuttling on the damp kitchen floor tiles;

 

I ground myself within this postage stamp,

convex monocled eye prying,

unstitching the Heavens:

 

with each exhaled fog

my dreams beach themselves on your cratered shore,

far from safe paths or bent signposts

 

the moon's folly a lantern for errant moths

 

as each mercurial sphere follows

an unflinching ley-line,

and sub voce motherboards sing without gravity

 

I keen my ear to your tidal pull

 

and lock my gentle orbit with yours.

 

Done