you cough

you cough

stars onto a dark table

 

sigh

and arbitrary constellations

 

evaporate

while the moon through a crack

 

that monolithic pure marble

interlude

 

vast atoms cloud syllables ululate

(sputum on film

 

so close

and like all food

 

so far away)

on a still day falling in black each leaf in the sere tuned for the turning