naked
drumming purple river
moving like surprise,
and then finding its cadence, which
opens the skull into a nest
(papaya opens like
a wound, showing its seeds like astrology)
lanky ounce bowl
faces up and sees nothing
but blue citrus whiff
and calligraphy of branch, leaf
each one a bright foaming shore.
I can participate, I can dream and interpret my own salve.
barren
backing up from the horizon
like hurt feelings
(green plastic bottle opens like a turbine,
showing what you look like in pieces)
taming the alchemy
towards simple bleach
paper equations
where everything is the same
and can be counted like beans
on a table.
I can be brave, I can wait and purse up the gas underneath obedience and rumor.
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