Colder than water, unravelling its dark breath in the blur my hands make as I press metal to the flesh, feel again the lunar hush of nightscape, heartlight, dreams.

My body is street, laid across a midnight where dogs hunger and come close; I kill their anger with a sigh, dog-voices buried in the flood the blood hears singing in the needle-tip.

I walk the tightrope coolness of that touch, entering the edge as it cuts through the world.

This dream you find me in has new earth, this emptiness an orbit which draws me to its glow –

my fingers are gripped around the star-beam like a prayer, and never letting go.

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