Pushed by the particles of God’s
countenance, a partial vacuum,
fluorescent, obscure, the surface
on which flammable liquids float.
Fleecy or vaporous?  This vital spark
of flint, sensitive to the bit, a space
producing sensation.  Ice alloy, low
specific gravity.  Intensely timbered, 
Aphrodite inflamed the fire in the eye. 
I descend from the deliriously skirted
frame, asteroids spinning ever faster.
Ancient magnetic north, fickle me
and disclose.  Delivered of child, do
I illuminate embroidered vessels, re-
veal divisions risen from the land? 
          Sleep—
a winged valve, a phosphorescent
gun, gathers and scatters its signal-
fire, a luminous curve, a reversible
traffic.