Wires loop and coil on my bedroom floor,

and the head of the machine goes under and through -

seeking out signals,

tuning me like a radio.

‘What have you found?’

It talks in currents and jolts

that summon images from the graves of my mind,

and ushers them to my eyes

where they parade themselves

a carnival in the night,

waves of faces I know

balanced on bodies I don’t.

‘Where have they gone?’

It winds its way round my spine

peeling off to enter my heart

and makes me feel it all

again.