Nocturne for Pinhole Camera by Philip Gross

An upstairs window lit. A hollow in the night. A five-watt sleeplessness. An eye shut in its socket fizzing with its worn nerves, after burn of one un- remarked blink of the day, and another, like bubbles blown wobbling in above the garden fence, from nowhere. Falling, one singles you out to print the concrete at your feet: a wincing quick wet kiss.