dancing free dying—trying
anything new and tracing loops
eyes of all limits blinking out—side
ways of dreaming beneath
uprisings to trick—trickling
beads of sweet apathies

look at my house and back—woods
stale enough to tease out each fiber
tinder grasps at my ceremony—only
soulmates if we sow
as complete fiction loves—doves
raised in mutiny

keratin beaks—breaks
around my wrist more than I can
bare meadows made to agree—meant
more to me than you know
more time than I have—had
more to do with timbre than terror