-glancing-

it’s hard to look away, to hush the night under this moon’s colloquial pearl. brittle galaxy of the winged and the legged busy telling each other everything, fizzing within the big bang of earshot, within a stoned throw. so i may raise my voice enough to carry south what doesn’t pool at my feet like shadow in prayer cast. dear someone, somewhere out there, i am sorry as an unopened letter. something is owed, though not unending as the vague black overhead, but in the way the stars vie for little pieces of it. whispers and shivers of everything i wish i could tell you.

-letting go-

                         sound

of two hands

-villainess-

she knows he knows
such is a man’s way of knowing
what drifts beneath his bound is the skin of a woman

frail affair pooled into shadow of tree pile been heaped up on the horizon

seems when a man wants a woman
she is a lake slick with tremble

heart deep –
  the shadow crush depth

peripheries entangle in wake, wake

she is the drowning of an eye
whereupon his row fails to tease up the tiniest ripple

he is surely the whole of the woods
an always fetching of oars

-a bad reenactment to follow-

the girl out in the tide still

almost to his chin
the boy remembers

the octopus he dragged ashore
  many kite strings set loose

then not breathing

then his girl