of light as a character. Always my hips break their bowl. Tilt:
I pour you into me as light invades us.
In the garden, chilies suck red into their waxy hearts. Your heart,
tenacious fennel: Six years ago I loved someone else. Nine years ago you loved
someone else. We haven’t learned
the names of the seeds.
The way memory bites us, says play, says need. You said love was alchemy and I said hand
me the spade. I have long since stopped thinking o
f body, yours. Animal means spirit; spirit, breath. Bend close, you can hear
the leaves animal backwards.
You be a tank girded with steel.
I will perch on your grate or the welded navels of your bolts.
You be the hulking battle creature and I, wispy spangled
machine, will press upon you with the weight of brine and nectar,
the gravities that pull me up I will push into your armor. You will tremble
as if I have turned a key, set your belts in motion with the burning engine
inside the axle of my long body.
Some of us were cheated of war deaths. We know how well our weapons work. Your fingers forget. One switch unlocked. After training. Mounting the cannon onto the tank. Heavy enough for six on the ground. He stood on the bed of the truck, pulled towards. (Discharge: Someone leaves always.) His body opened like wings. Red thistles oxidized in the grass.