Challenge
Missing someone…
In Our Laboratory
as you’ve turned to go home
we will burn standing once
too close to the scope
your hand as if still
cupped beneath
my collar bone
to catch the beat
with seismographs
or so you’d thought
for whatever ears
feigned not to hear
too faint a pulse
standing ever
so near... louder
and it’s all too clear
our radiographs
will last reveal
whomsoever
the eyes
would try
to conceal
in the
not so
distant
future
of the
Hubble
from which
you evaluate
me back...
as a shrink
in a petri dish
blue and green
like your favorite
aging cheese...
with microscopic
semitransparency waiting
to return someday the
stethoscopic favor
around your neck...
to the death my friend
or for whenever
we’ll need it
again...
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