In the numb drone heat
of the Central Valley sun,
a spasm
knocks you into silence.

Meters ticked up streams
of Freon-flushed current
'til a breaker tripped,
not too far from here.

You can feel her gone.
You can feel her network flinch.

And then, a touch.
A flicker.
Flows desiring flows,
amplifying desire.

Pulling you back.
Pricing you in.
Breathing.