sore sweet forever infinite second
of grace I cuddle in the black tumble
of time still in the stripping flow the soft
undress by the warm world| the forest floor
lays the dead and the dying down tucks up
to pencil-necks the soon to sleep cracks tunes
from its bones to lullaby to soothe calm
acquiescence from the shivered| taught
well the silky give of your tempered corpse
the fallen face emptied serenity draped
across the pegs of your bones| absorption
of the cruel world and the honest worship
of that| I fall for a while now return
to the death to the truth that knocked me back|
o thou thin miracle proud in slimy
heat not made of hyacinths but aping
life| I’m aware of you foetal-pawed nailed
to the crust of a breathless man turtle
head in pincers dying in hospital
televised or ashamed| o you formless
creature anaphylactic and scared new
skin scalded you’re blind-eyed and crippling|
crooked you who I love so much I am
without coherence giddy in the bawl
of wind that whips and moulds your figure| stretch
happy in the drench of rain that paints flesh
on your translucence joy in ribboning
birds that are your nerves in the open sky|
Owllight 