These Messengers

I write with obscene distractions

Collapsing myth and desire

Into fiction. This false mirror

The distance effect

Brings me to the center

Of careless reflection

I am caged within myself

Eager to touch the outside

To re-imagine this contest

Of machines in some new circle

The human satellites

The race of love against momentum

My own skin warm from the memory

Of union. Let no one seek

To cover this unborn flower

Cradled in the soft earth

I dream this without madness

Leaned against the echoing wall

Where a whisper is united

With power and substance

Kings of modern freedom

These messengers shall be