If I believe in anything
it’s a magic of mundane things.
A god of silver buttons and
slow rising bread and tea-steam.
Let me be a giant and cup this whole
terrible world and all its grains of sand in my hand.
The massive is easy to believe in and
I am fat as a great roaming planet.
Jupiter would surely love to bend
such a lush thing over the Kuiper belt
leave lines stinging across my back
while his wife pretended to be angry
Her eyes lingering hungry as moons
|A.Z. Louise is a lover of birds, a writer of words, and a believer in the healing powers of peppermint tea. After leaving their job as a civil engineer, they took up poetry and fiction instead, but they still harbor a secret love of math. Links to their work can be found at azlouise.com.|