Like an explosive
spend the entire dream staring at me
Maybe it can be implanted in the frontal lobe of the brain,
stored in a clump
of blurred shadow, look once more for a few
German verbs to disassemble it

It must have eavesdropped on the timer, silently admitting
its fictional urgency, in the midst of my serial image-making
tick-ticking, a few irrecoverably lost forms
reserving ample space for trauma, taking danger
and locking it in freeze frame,
tracking their movements
and burying them within contentedness

A bomb
tick-tick-ticking in deep water, as dolphins’
heat flows through and bubbles up, the illusion falls
slack just as the danger begins hissing.