This is the best time to watch for meteors;
before the moon daubs the dark
and obscure things swallow the sun.
Asleep on the car-seat, driven by conviction,
I follow the vapour trails, furtively,
to witness this spectacle for myself.
Abruptly we halt beyond the marsh hollows and,
your face is no longer scarred by the light-noise.
Your arms are a safe place to construct an observatory.
I follow your line of sight and the radar dial of your forefinger
"The radiant of Perseids tapped out like little blips on screen
Anticipation held in the space-ache vacuum;
an uncertain Lent. Specks drift through the tepid fluid,
glowering, they gather like blood in my skull.
Memory streams like ribbons of flotsam
suffering beneath the tender membranes.
Your first time is always the fiercest.
Comets shed their shock of dusty ice
rocks a world to perish and burn,
the brutal atmosphere engulfs.
That living stone can hurtle in a bid of passion,
their right to be grounded, to find a home -
That is why men believe they saw a star fall.
Perseus showers the earth so briefly
skims the horizon like stones across a lake.
Sudden blood-beads pepper the black cerebral canvas
before receding into the secret folds of space.
