when you step out to the balcony
suspended on the edge of the 15th floor
you reach into the air
as if you could touch it
walk across it like it was some sort of cosmos
mapped out and made familiar

and the information she held
about particles of human beings
disappearing in the embrace of another
or in absolute natural laws

you think of this then no
at this level
you no longer need oxygen
you can reach out and touch
the tail-end of comets
drawing back flames to answer her questions
on the physics of things

resting on the edge of the 15th floor
feel the heat of the municipality
          beneath you
the steam vents and metro stations

reaching out to grasp the air
dreams balanced on hidden wires;
all these pipelines and connections
have led us to an island