by Brita Sauer
From my window in the projected night,
a lizard caught in a square of light.
It is a sticky-footed singularity
but one dark eye still catches the gleam.
Yellow fig beyond we nibble
a we-ness too sweet for our solitary mouths.
what precious stop-motion
proceedings what whiptailed
delight what singular crack
in our lines of vision
What would happen if I brought
my whole heart if we brought
our whole hearts our cowled