-- the unseen is perceived
through upside down black holes.
I hold gold around the rim
of black, but not blind, paths
hoping to grasp
some sort of hand

like man will hope for God
in heaven where coffins of light
wait to meet ours.

...and when they do
my eyes will gloss
like my future titanium tombstone
in Her garden.  In Her garden's soft grass
submitting to the arches of my bare feet --

this I will only know when my pulse
beats to the banging
of atom collision and belongs to
the unborn children.