A world breaks if two people live in it
God plays a fog bird. In context
of lovers an echo is the closest definition.
The canyon scar spreads toward nothing. A figure
at one end, a shadow at the other.
God takes two bodies and knocks them together: Earth.
Of course it is uneven, the heft of it.
By Heisenberg’s principle, one is not the loneliest number.
God is the sum of two observations.
Summer Ellison is a visual artist from Los Angeles. Her poems are forthcoming in Inscape, likewise folio and elsewhere.