I Slip my Will

With a dark mark
My intent is known

All my power contracts
smaller than a pupil

to provide one ink drop
of ocean

more countable
than blessings

And I may have to walk
a mile for this

I may have to stand in line
with hundreds

fixing the bull’s eye
firmly in mind

every mark for now
a sacred star compressed

a massive black dot
telescoped

to a tiny circumference
of suffrage

Explosive
secret or not

I fold it in upon itself
and slip my will into the slot