a lightning bug in deep maryland is winking
an unlucky star winks back as she falls backwards into the black,
the clearest thing is how the snow mutes a train of thought
miller plays the guitar but he says he’s not very good,
     he said the frequency of a star ending is D#
          stepped a handful of octaves down, past the end of what we know,

I know your cheek viewed from 5 o'clock when those eyelashes flick at 12
a sticky orange rind you hold in your palm 
     sunlight close up
orphan wind wraps its fingers around the front door of your house
and you hardwood floor sock slip to answer her
lending yourself to cave into a want to stare at the sky
the wind wraps its fingers around your upturned neck
            raspy freckled in starry pinpricks