eat their young—
as an electron spits
and then swallows
its own photons—
so time
first stretches,
makes life's landmarks
look distinct;
then,
comes back
hard
and fast
and smashes them all flat
as we hurry nervously
on.
*
Does faith find you
pushing
certain words
to the foreground?
Bending and posing
them like double-
jointed dolls?
Wherefore
this desire
to bathe and clothe
bewilderment,
to render
unto sound,
to reconcile
at all?
*
Before I pose
another question,
let's define our terms:
just because we
"exchange" explanations
doesn't mean
we own them.
