disaster struck down river, engineering a fall from grace you enter remission. permission was given for the pass code; those explosives were too hidden for the oblivious guard. turning toward the sun
she and you thank, thankful for security. Guarding your soft spot, reminiscent of descent, the quiet place silence made into the hole. packed, gird with plastique. where else to hide dissent other than vaginally. she asks you if her weaponeering has protruding visibility. you say, ‘you are such the weapon.’ she asks you if the plastiques will implode her uterus first. you look to the sun and think about craters.

–=–

Cracking the lip, the blood reminds
me of deranged faces, coming to me
in my home, descent of the veil.

Real intrusion into the body.
Qualities of space disappear,
forget for a moment, do something

Goddamnit, do something already,
break the vase, crack the lip, switch
the players in the game, move

the profusions below. the
appearance of a possibility moves against
submission. you raise your voice

then, immediately the wind picks up,
you listened to it, your own voice carried
through you. the ashes left the

urn. in the trap the costumes
came to pieces as the players caved
into the clothes they had always worn.

the underworld danced to avoid oblivion.

–=–

she loved the ball and not the chain;

a breezy tree shaking it’s good stuff.

and all this is bare before the winter;

she was your shadow. she danced at night.

the lights are off.