This wild being,
this State of flux,
this simmering smear
flooding the pure empty nothing.

This mess of splintering sparks
showering out of the deep dark
like dotted dice in awkward tumbles.

This misfit unfolding of stuff
with its difficult excitements,
dimensions and velocities,
describing laws of gravity
and the functions of our physics.

This formal structure of strictures
that fumbles at the hems of ghosts
now shocks the senses with corners
and the hard fabric of substance

This insignificant star dust
blustering in boiling eddies
disrupting the vague vacuum
with material surfaces
that jar against the ever present tense

This sprawling and reddening shift
of blue sky light brimming in domes
This semblance of solidity
This striving galactic ocean
beyond all forms of measurement

All this

and yet each night I sleep
in the disassembly of dreams