on becoming a god
here I am again
magnifying glass in hand
examining the fly in the spiderweb
making fire with the sun
whether from a torn fingernail
or a crack in the porcelain
there’s plenty of room for anything
to enter or depart this biosphere
up close things look either worse
or beautifully exaggerated
like the death of the executioner
or my own facial striations
february two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
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