"asteroseismology" by Robby Nadler

two bedspry the gamboge split of morningdust your face impressionistic glowyour cheeks could be dried liliesin darkness your body clusters with landing stripsguide and lift directionthe way bee eyes scope ultravioletbetween spectrum of red and orangethere is a color i discovered and named afterthe sound you emit when asleepby the kettle i washed and lefta few apricotsto remind you spring comes more than once a yearthe sidewalk is being repaintedfound a different shortcut to workalthough my hair smells like tomorrowsometimes when people ask about youi think of the noise from my voice lying in a rivercounting the fish as they pass overheadthe hum of your flesh echoesbut only when the moon drops to the hilt of kneescan i sense these vibrations