about to descend from the kitchen
into my dark, bedroom burrow
but you interrupt me, softly
by catching my eye.
dripping through the windows,
dancing on the floor,
on my face—
your warm tongue of light tastes
everything of day,
licking the leaves of trees
and the pink of my palms.
i have no choice but to lift my gaze
to meet you.
i could never look down on you.
you must be god.
and i am not adam,
but an atom—
beyond microscopic in the universe.
look at the colossal beings of the sky.
futures away—
they are of the past, today.
and i don’t exist.