But the moths find you, phantom.
& the crackle
of the javelinas
in the brush
defiled the doorling
stood canon toting
So, you know the ground here? Where else
is new or to you called unknown:
onto the marsh
The apology wends off as smoke ground to
gravel. So you were here alright, coughing
on the live tape:
hurt by its name
Fall back with your hands before or behind
you just so.