The finite                    enormity of it. 

           Everything                   reawoken                   by the absence of anything.

For once I can leave the grass unclaimed, sink into green and unmake
each cloud from my image. 

The mountain painfully small above                  pins a star on my chest. 

                                 Even now, you have never been here. 

And between spasms of light a tree loses its oakness. In undefined shadow I lose
only the skin of us. 

Waiting in my ear                   the thunder behind silence,

          in the hollow of my ear                       becoming silent.