For some reason, Assembling the Lord readers seem especially fond of "Courting Voids," so I figured I'd post it here.
Courting Voids
serve me up your script
{one indent] on a star-encrusted platter
and it won't begin to matter
{one Indent] how many bounces the
{Two Indents] trades have counted
before your brightest hope crash-lands in
{one Indent] tinsel turnaround
and touch where
{one Indent] I'm gone.
camera wounds heal backwords
{one Indent] draw maps in blood
{Two Indents] forethought sharks.
unlicensed lips split, spill
open, even though I know that
{one Indent] your eyes are dust-rimmed portals
{Two Indents] into silent beige static
and I just killed you on paper
{one Indent] for the seventeenth time.
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