I was the architect
of my own solitude, void filled
with the cold blue light
of an empty room—T.V. on,
sound off, all night bio-
luminescent love scenes
shuffled with shots of deep
sea life and hour-long
stretches of reality
shows in which I watch myself
through the tidepools left behind.
Did I wash up
through necessity, chance,
or purpose? Call me a commercial
break, a made-for-T.V. movie.
Ask if I’m lit from within.
Too many phenomena
have yet to be explained.

From Ricochet (Casa de Cinco Hermanas Press, 2016). Click here to purchase a copy.