Alien

With a long-handled spoon, I stir
my hot chocolate until it whirls.
Froth from the milk steamer drifts
and dwindles, disappearing
in an eddy of rich darkness.

I remove the spoon,
open a crack
in the universe,
a swathe
of galaxies,
pinpoints of light
and energy,
nanoscopic sequins
on the scarf
of space and time.

The coffee machine gushes, jolts me
back into Earth’s atmosphere,
where humans scoff fry-ups
from greasy plates on dirty tables;
I am an alien here.