NOTHING TO CATCH
            fruitful legacies on an opaque outing ...
            dancing solo no more,
              but wandering still in a trance --
                 a deceitful solitude.

          a synapse sweetly met --
             random clickings give meaning to
                an urged trespass,
                   filling in for permanence.

        copper flights tease a sense
           in a dimension unnamed . . .