if we weren't made of soot—which we highly suspected/respected
in her garden—she had no garden
we did not love her—we did not let her picture fall from our wall
forgive & foment—no one kissed me where
like bad jewels—good black dirt
what song can't do & does—magnificent thumper in the wild
'the secret blackness of milk'—'sordid intimacy of the abyss'
when it became a corolla—flickers
you are like an angel—yelling for
attention—still more still
my lamentation is as perfect—an almond a shell
her eyes an altitude—amnesic lover
gathered her skirts—to the blond chapel
altarbirds follow us—herehere
herehere
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