Apart from edges, and into deeper darkness,
our scars crawl, remaining aloof.
Open windows frame the ache in motion, the
displaced notes between two wavering spaces.
Absent light, absent voice. What is the longitude of
grace? Consider errors and their remnants.
Navigators measured lunar distance and the height
of two bodies to determine Greenwich time.
I study the passing cloud
and its descent, noting the nature of condensation.
Desire: the fragmented night and its circumstance.
Heavenly form. The moon’s dull glow.
Acquiescence before the body’s silt.
Interstellar matter become dust, become
gas, become molecule.
Human distance registers no scale.
“Human Distance” was published in Bindlestiff in summer 2016, and has also appeared on this blog.