das Lichtspektrum
thrums in the locked foyer as though underwater. It’s soft
and yet crinkle
like a snake breathing. There must be something
holy crowning
this bridge of light to brim it to life.
Perhaps
this is how miterleben bleeds into the world: through the eye.
You are transfixed
by the enormity of its regard, cast like a statue
in molten gauze.
Currents are swirling and cooling into place.
Your new surface
a circle of salt, a scrum of ants, a halo of eggshells
emblazoned.
Nothing is happening and will continue to happen.
The lesser
being watched, the lesser being seen, die Göttlichkeit
a chasm of light
you echo through. Ecstasy may always be abandoned.
Nevertheless,
linger as long as you do, intransigent
with briefness.
Träume sind keine Schäume.
Photo by Kyle Johnson on Unsplash.
Ryan Dzelzkalns
Ryan Dzelzkalns has poems appearing with Catapult, DIAGRAM, The Offing, The Shanghai Literary Review, Tin House, and others. He received an MFA from New York University and was awarded the Wendy Parrish Poetry Prize. His writing has been translated into Latvian (the language of his grandparents) and has been anthologized in a handful of collections. He was a recent Fulbright scholar in Tokyo, where he still lives. Read more on his website.