This sentence’s one constant is 
 

a laptop lies naked on my chest.  
Dibs on any heat, clammy & pink  

on the brink of aspects vanished in air.  
 

The laptop’s ‘aspects’ conquering the odor of mollusks, our  
 

memory of the moment lost 
 

more to desires, a hill that’s not  
 

a hill, a gaze upon the sun leading to a word 
 

that’s not a sentence.