Copernican, heliotrope
in a satellite, I was born
sunstarved and remote.
Telescopes
in my eyes and anger
for lenses.
Binary pinholes burned
over every inch
of the world,
the deist’s single reflex
lensed redundant—
Imago inverted. White
through a blinding keyhole.
Legacied across night’s retina,
in the great cold
distance,
I remember
everything.
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