I could split atoms, spit feathers,
light fires on the tundra,
go under and who would remember?
not many
ask anyone
they won't know me by name.

In the index marked selfish economy
above the last line is where you will
find me.

I want for, but
need nothing
she brings to me
everything,
and
when I fall she'll be the one
to recall me.

In these optical collisions
she is one of those visions
that torment me
in the best possible way