[Neuromancer]

drift so slightly
homeward
wish this
day

[Neuromancer]

this longest
night
fails
to edge
my heart

[Kay Syrah]

constellar

how drift
the solitude of days
that bear the grid
of home latitudes
and longings
invisible
in the wishing
of hazed suns
haloed moons,
and the star
cinctured
heart that beats
both

against the wind
and the doldrum
delays.