49
with venom rain- whipped thread of sea from the strike of night
pinch legs like dead branches and the stumps weep streams
in scales we wind the staircase with some half steps, some whole as each globate landing purifies the vestige of our souls
she saw to throw her heart like a voice and make the sky to throw her teeth
to the dead lands where the wombs woe where writhes and ripens in blackest spring the star of being whose light our thoughts like worms from corpses rotting glow
lantern guts hatch we thresh them against our hands like small animals and bleed their black acids into our hearts
sounds that slip shapeless eyes whose orbital lights convulse in resonance and truss hearts in frosts of flesh
half asleep hypaethral warmth in black glass blown from bright clouds there are beetles that shatter the under sky
there is a dog bed in belarus covered in fleece from the orphan's head
when what's once replete recedes silage shrinks and sinks to ash
the larynx glows a lamp-like crystal coronary tentacles of voice a motion for the cloture
bleed eidolons reckless from vapors of veins wire hand molds wisdoms to flesh
in anguiform ligatures mummified flames wore the corselet of Mehen and gave birth to the day
your face is a broken cup spilling machines into your hands
i am holding in all of my heart like a soft milk / the porcelain that fell like a guillotine
twitches intoned by the sky grays like blood in the water ooze when they're belly up
Beats like a heart, threatens to remember everything. How I stretched your blood over my shoulders like a quilt and stepped out into the snow.