I kayak down your black swirling creases

Polish your tiny orange pimples

I sleep with you at night, hold you close

Dream of Hal Greer making jump shot free throws

Wilt Chamberlain doing the finger roll

I inflate you by hand, your air pressure just right

Bouncing true: not too high, not too low

I twirl you on my index finger like a Globetrotter

Speak to with reverence, a spherical sun

Spalding, Wilson, Goaliath basketball hoops

Wrinkle thy cords, swoosh swoosh in the cool moonlight

With my eyes closed, based purely on intuition

I release you from my grip, behind the three point line.

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