scarlet or not, shelter or none, / centriole and silk filament,
eight rabbits in reins settle their / cottontail feet in the molasses earth / and begin their whimsical dancing
What is the love that can follow this word?
I never learned to fix anything
It always comes / back to light.
any part of me you remove / will grow back
a game, something someone / played, once.
“baptized in loose silt / of Mississippi relish”
“the sky slowly clearing, but clearing to what”
My mind / Is like the harp strings, with a breeze blowing always / And no rest in sight.