after "the sound of silence"
clickstop spinning and then,
the moonlight folding
against my translucent,
still candid legs
and glass ceilings,
painted obscure
& cirrus-rich.
bayes' theorum:
the probability of a
given the existence of b
equals the very reverse
times a's probability,
divided by the probability of b.
the letters are ciphers, but not
symbols; we draw them out
with pinprick arms.
i sit crossed-up & curled,
vibrant mantis
elegant, oblative
under my quiet moon.
arthrotomists listen for the
careful sounds of fissure,
but i have grown old
to take such comfort
in simplicity.
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