The dead earth sighs,

when lit by the moon,

whose rain is

full of fireflies

fall whose—–

from its heart, as steam, I

rise from the dark stream,

through a seam in the seen,

and animal cry,

my belly full of water,

full of fireflies,

which, rising, I respire.

I seen then sky through overt eyes,

vaulted as bone of eye.

Seen ur-I through covert eyes,

mirrors to animal eyes,

turned upriver,

blankwards, and storms

at pause, still still tornadoes.

They are yet the dark empty room,

(the space inside,

this world of our alive),

flooded by dark rain,

full of fireflies.