if I was the universe,
I would contract into an infinitely small circle of self
each night
and alight on your bedside table
for a moment.
would you feel my presence?
what if I was
everything?
would you still try to look at me?
you could find me between the stars
and behind the sun
if you laid on your back on the side of a hill
with your hands folded on your belly
and your toes in the grass,
you could see me
and I would see you,
a mote of
life
adrift in the vast entropy of things
