WEBVTT

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I'm just going to read
one from a section that's

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called "Drown."

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"Endless moths,
soft war of bodies.

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I'll trace for you flight
patterns, vapor trails,

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circumvolve, like
galaxies, unreal.

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Slip of a girl in a smocked
dress cut your circlet

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from the dotted lines, may
the chitin dust bejewel you.

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Comes the back of the throat
ghost, comes the rain.

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Lake edged by boats, days,
fishtail, last lures,

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flinty dreams of flight
in the water box under.

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I said, corset of bones.

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I said, heart sponge or here
is the mind, a palace of tears.

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Leaves on the cottonwoods
turn over silver bodies.

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Nothing rises.

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My own sunken hand
blooms beautiful.

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Imagine Lazarus's resurrection
in the throat and just

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after, his terrible hands.

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