Tiny fire animals with one intent keep moving
quietly up and down the spine, invisibly.
If we could somehow peer into the empty mirror
and see them busy at their work, we would
have no enemies in this world anymore.
We would behold each other in reverent awe,
as if in a magic mirror, and then maybe
we’d decide to play a game.
In this game, which we love to play, I would
be me, and you would be you, and then
we’d turn and change places.
The music would never stop.
Everyone who adhered to some religion before,
or maintained some staunch political belief,
or who cried alone to the god at night
while everyone else was asleep —
their eyelids making little fluttering movements
like lost moths in search of the light —
would feel an instant thrill of delight, would forget
themselves, would spontaneously begin to sing!
Still, this is all just an idea that came to me
while waiting for the sun to rise, the little dog
snug and warm between our temporary bodies,
the whole room growing larger, infinitely
larger, behind our sleepy eyes.