I dream of distance,
of miles, of feet, of inches

the long stares down short roads
the short steps that accumulate on the sides of mountains

the winged leaps that do not land
but float to the absent place where clouds waste away

I dream of eternity,
of timelessness, of hours, of seconds, of now

the perfect watch
that sees the perfect heart
the hands that count
away the clock

the cloven feet that step along the path less chosen
horned and woolly, blind and vacuous – up the slope

I dream of space,
of lightyears, of novas and nebulae

the endless nothing between the microns
the long slip that becomes a wish of dust

the gill-less dive that leaves me unbreathing
into the abyss.