Nighttime in the dusty
office, thick dusty shelves
lined with books, papers,
old rubber bands,
old desktop dark and pitted.
Dusty dark room open now
to the night sky, to
constellations wheeling –
the crab, the bear, the starlight
gleams, casting shadows
that slide down the bookshelf
and across the floor, crawl
up the legs of the desk
and disappear with a soft
rustling into a pile of papers,
tasting dust,
licking shadowy lips,
looking for more.
(Originally appeared in Congruent Spaces)
