room abuzz with almost-spoken words
and twirling round those are virtually meeting eyes
like the clockwork of a galaxy
(within which tick moons around planets tock around stars gears around)
weaving through this comets of intentions
encircled are by belts of fragments of dream rocks
and mindmade spaceships of words
precisely calculated sometimes whiz by or touch down
perhaps green with cold or white with heat
aposiopetic broken off satellite flights
all these vibrations and musics always hinted at
spoken maybe someday
you in this me in this
kosmos logos chaos
