Mitosis Lullaby

a poem by Robert Evory

I’m exhausted of sleep. My highway
.          of nerves
slowing. The moon pitches light

.          behind
atmosphere’s curtain. A sun explodes
.          and a little girl

learns to write the letter a. My cells
.          are dividing
on their own, thank you,

.          though my spine
is crooked. Atoms in my
.          eyelids

increase their gravity. A wave
.          of conversation
uncircles earth losing its sign,

.          becoming lost.
There is very little worth saying
.          and hardly

any air to stand on when blood
.          backs up
in the volcano. A tiny burst

.          when the nucleus
loses an electron, when two circuits link
.          in the brain.

Every day I lie to myself. I keep
.          that secret
for the promise of splitting

.          again,
with every word sung.