‘mabuta no hikari.’
 
i treasure this trick
the trickling trap of light
when you shut your lashes tighter than tight,
shudder your lids,
          shut shutter than shut,
until eye-vomit becomes your sight.
 
you can clutch beauty, you can pin it in your iris,
and it can tooth you back, lovely bug, bacteria, virus.
 
the churn in moonlight of worms out a skull is an exorcised infection—
it’s one column toward the sky. it’s one column of weight and want
and
simple curiosity.
 
ten years later, i think, ‘how much beauty fits in one brain.’
and,
          ‘well, how much blindness would you buy,
          if you got the one view that mattered?’