tumble into
you, hold my
hand, a sampled
time in simplistic
array, gone
to earth and a curl
of smoke.
when no meals
are left,
they’ve been
eaten with bent
spoons. and
our tightened
soulstrings hung
from a branch,
there for the
pleasure of extinct
insects. a mass,
a mess giving
shoulder taps
to the dusk. and
touch our eyes
when a truck goes by,
touch them closed
before the shudder moon
can vanish
into cloistered
heavens. before us,
in the before. summer
orphans, blind-curtained
by an incomplete
season. betrayed by the
architecture of wasps.
in a madman rush we
wish for clarification,
for manifestation of
torrent breath.
a call for destiny.
or jumbled
words that fall asleep
in the kitchen
drawer. where we’ll
still be at dawn,
counting hurricanes
and affecting
blueberry lips.
in days gone missing,
in and out of reason.
hour and hour,
scratching ephro’s palm
for luck. and hiding
secret diaries
behind the blistered sun.
shaken from one
another, borrowed
and borrowing.
