oarage, the swirling motion now
enter the bloodstreams     darkness


unstay.
servitude is a vibrance, as if taste

the hand finds the gunwale, they
exchange their shadows

unlit lighthouse circumnavigated
black vessels, every lantern hooded

as if things set aside, as if sleep
as if the blood of angels on your door

the bowl emptied, the brittle pitcher filled
hands like smoke, dissolve

the flood-water blue, environing
unbornness, in the offing cast

bone, turquoise gleaming sheets of crystal
spread over the cave floor

sentences, depressed within this wall
your back held to it

hands move in unison
a separating motion, color without light

jealous fire rises from the crutches
men, men; lying, stooping

do you walk across the floorboards
using your left foot or the other?

incomparable.
of this you are certain?