a pair of trembling eyes, tracing shadows cast from blank referents quivering and interpreting through dust-filled, thin, curious tears expecting moldering blueprints.

watching me watching you, the lamp off: you won’t talk about the lines, any of them, who drew them, their vanishing points, perspectives, or how they were drawn on your arms.

during our uncertain twilight my small red eyes interlacing the blue lines, observing the nodes emerging as nests of loose ends and umbral morse telegraphy.

beyond dots and hazy shadows i know the world ends at sunrise. possibilities flourish: in the violet hour of want, an exploded drawing of desire and symbol lets us assemble.