for me, this time, the formula came from reservation and burden, curtains, a milk so thick with guilt it looked like bile and, infused, a frost which looked like chalk to churn
Little me out on the ice Imagining movement I wait to reel in The fish are all frozen but they live somewhere The ice is all broken but it'll do Fit to numb the space between my toes
Stubble and stare and the green gets hazy. I can't tell where January ends and April starts. Wondering about coat lengths, hair bands, hands hanging, Hands in the ring of silly dust.
Loom them together, our magic-key words Get to the symbiosis of greatness Tell us in some fancy term what we should be thanking you for Thanking man-blood for Bowing to the roots of our mountains to honor.