Lufting

Space     chimes     sparse     songs
Air         mattress   lufts
                                  this
                                  stack of strangers
                                  upon black heavens.

Our    intercostal    cages
                                  catch soft circles of breath
                                  then release.

                                  catch.
                                  release.

Knotch a furry dart of sky
Spear the stratosphere straight through

                                  'til morning.

And that vagrant thought:
                                                              [why this         
                                                               comes to pass?]
               lingers
               just beyond
               the periphery of my concern.


               like a shy coyote.