Primum Mobile
Seeing, through a window, Orion
against clear blue-black. Realizing
that the constellation is
actually a pattern, on glass, of
rain, strangely, momentarily,
stilled. So, each droplet has become
a thing. Things in themselves — only
events that for a while are
monotonous. In bed, eyes
shift toward the lover. Heat. Without
heat, a drop of water would
bounce, forever, and a heart would simply
jangle, eternal bell.