The wash of moments, like stars
burned out near the beginning of time.

How far it carries reflection, forced in quiet
winter grinding like teeth set in sleep

the galaxy of night which leaves nothing
hot young engines confused for devotion,

patterns springing the speck into life.
Universes you subtract with precision

wholes abstracted with the simple stroke
and the act fingermarked upon the weave.

Remembering the moment of recall
the void where fuel grasps at rocks rushing

with hopes towards their own democratic end --
striving for tenderness, you bring them back,

compressed into the brainblind of space
and smaller than the egg of your first life.

Jason Lee graduated from Vassar College with a degree in English. His thesis was a collection of poems he worked on with Eamon Grennan. Jason has recently had two poems published in smallspiralnotebook.com.