my brother sister
psoriasis
my membrane
separating frog call from bird call
mud
from air
and into the air wither these spirits
the grid and distinctions
that turned the worlds
millimetres apart hearts beating in stereo arrhythmia
never to know each other
never to slow
yet constellations appear
when conjured
and traces on screens
are flying machines
grist in the mill
of the war of the worlds
or their sweet conjunction