i had to blink my eyes, the lids-they,
like blouses,
drawn, laced about my lanterns.

their dainty fortresses have been seduced,
for along the pale acres of ache that creation
flung in patches of peach, soft salt
drifts and invades each passing pore.

i cannot say anything right, so i will let
silence do my bidding. Heaven forbid
i decide to sing, God knows that each
breath would set you afloat and away.