to hear it all hum
your body shivers,
a wisp of draft
loops around a toe
pulls you out, right out
Wind on the window,
cough from a car.
From the carton of stars
light pours
through the dark
into sunken eyes
A bed lamp switches
the outside world
for the bright inside
you jump
out of your skin
at the sawn-off torso
drawn across the pane
Wind on the window
the night trembles
like a glassware shop
in a small earthquake
with the weight
holding everything
