like smoke or dust 


the bat echolocates a higher self and consumes
before actualization
most mammals lose their wings 
at birth 

I could anticipate feeling
and arrive at a sunlit structure

only after the emergence of low-level clouds
did I understand the unattainable
negation
concealed in an absolute answer

a procedure of shadows on a foreign clock
ensuring I could fall asleep
at the wrong time
improvise indifference 
in the morning

could you look at me on accident 

if almost everything is feigned
everything becomes more true than
everything that is not

obsession is made of emptiness
inside an always healing bruise
colors are relatable 

to injury and penetration
I attach a drowning spider
mirror and distort at the same time 
at the same time 

I suffer in advance
of the moon  
there is more than one

Verge


the summer-born foal is all legs and dancing through the snow
drifting, she tumbles 

headfirst across the winter, figured around an impossible grey
we age somewhere between 
our bodies and season’s edge  



lying naked in the cold, my angel reveals my loneliness 
an assemblage of soft crystal, my silhouette, my 

verity— a film in black and white, a reciprocated gesture, a pegasus 
in winter sky



I covet the incredible, the possible, the finding of a perfect thread 
to mend your winter coat I loved you

even before we met, I knew

always, the feeling 
the pull of immortality, rather
the shadow and the light
I am refracted in a toggling, in a flicker of affection


each snowflake is precarious
an afterglow
an urgency  
the stars caught in your eyelashes
the fragments on my tongue