Rain light on the dim shine of the city
flung back the day to an empty spectrum
missing light on dry cracklin
smacking lips, dropping hints
of revivalist limbs in a net's worth
of dreams revisited, with gloves left
there from the previous visit
unlined bodies filling up with steam
ragged in their pursuit of themselves
to hollow out the helicopter heart
and come down with whirring blades intact
ready to walk with the impossible.