Gustaf Sobin

transcript

carried it, like
some vestigial gland, those sound-
less particles. puffs
of

dust, what the
fingers
would cup, the dark, e-

jaculated light.‘world,’ you’d called
it, what lay, just
be-

yond.there, your eyes as
if rising out
of
their own
buried negative, would meet, in the very

same
instant, their speckled
mirrors.