All those arms…
All that movement!
Our deaths the way rivers are;
or no float
but some sense in losing
This twist of daily flesh
mite flesh, lonely flesh, friendly kin
and other types of love which are made easier
than fox piss
Bellows me life, within flesh!
Built from sinew!
How we open into and into dune, how we open into what we are
when the waves are not so far, cadaver! Tell me more!
But tell me of what I know…
But carve it again
Hold my cold lips, know my love better, than myself
Perhaps as I kiss you in the sea, I weep, and gently
let me go, but do not—I place your hand, on a buoy
And the night is not night but dance
now, a living black
Bites tear the universe
My tongue an eclipsing sun and
i have lost
And so humanity