Again, another

fight to visualise

who is in charge;

sameness and impossibility

interrupt the signal fusing

some me to not-you,

cutting the watch party

short. I rise to leave;

[and briefly: there, one

speaking down another’s

throat, flipped over

and falling through,

smudging the lens, touching

a now against a then,

hair lassoing teeth, eating

features in a smoothing-over

of consequence, a clawing,

a plea to have the power for longer,

seeking the mirror of one eye

to meet the other – to trick

ourselves into thinking

we are the only ones

possessing infinite perspective]

I hate the analogue

lull of a large death

I am yet to know