First Morning

Any given space tightens over time,
teeming through folds of morning clarity
& slated red light, bearing no resemblance
to straight lines & stepping forward:
causality of purpose no longer with means

Still Life

Time echoed. On a wooden
floor sequences are passively poised

then parted. Readying loose particles
darkness falls in question, recessed

overhead. One’s skin stretched along
the cool surface, accessed & obtuse;

immediacy pulling the outside closed