Tonight another year ticks over.
I bought a bottle of wine.
After a glass, you take the camera
into the night and with your laser
leap like a Gondwanan firefly
before the shutter’s lazy blink.
I raise eyebrows at you
through the window. You laugh.
It’s not always about the big picture.
Back in the warmth,
you work at the laptop.
My inbox chimes. I open your gift.
Chaos bares its secret logic.
The number twenty-two
glowing, perfectly serifed,
etched on the night with fire.