--- Shift

You catch me handed, faced and hot;
the dwarf stars of my acne, dot-
to-dot constellations, random
as rosebud bursts in the quantum
garden of my adolescent
uncertainty, of my nascent
sexuality: its mushroom
scent pervades my black hole bedroom,
where seeds are spilt but do not grow,
scattered nebulae on my throw;
like the Lord God Onan's version
of Eden: the Tree of Passion
yields a bitter fruit, whose juice blinds
the one-eyed serpent as it winds
down - doppler shift of scales to blue -
Big Bang shrinks at the sight of you.