The Singular Binary Strand

The Singular Binary Strand

We must have looked like quite a pair
to the satellites that map the city through the stratosphere,
hovering like dragonflies
in empty space, measuring the slope of rooftops, fog densities,
and the volume of our bodies,

converting the topography
of the earth into an invisible stream of data.
I wonder if their antennae
twitched briefly as they tuned to the frequency of my naked
body, standing plainly under

the street light in front of your house,
watching you float smoke rings out across the dark from your porch,
while the rest of the city slept,
I look for the complexity of you and me stirring
our coffee in time behind the morning

paper; in the pixelated
terrain broadcast across the city during the evening news,
the singular strand of binary
code extrapolated from the high relief of our bodies
as we dream on the same pillow