No ideas but in

love—moved
out of

center to model of
wave: consider it. “Relate to this”: I’m quoting my love

but it can’t read you, I wiped

stuff off my phone. That broken

love: still feeds, yet beats,

empirical in the
sky that moon collude

with me wrenched free of sheer
centrality

how will he find me

by the jingling of my

key