looking at you,
a succinct tiding's working.
like a consenting tryst:
let it float with a voice.
like remembering the dagger
that has bestowed the cut,
or the dew that has, with its
aqueous hands,
drawn the grass closer to
the unearthing of things.
or a kiss and its deep scarab
in the red hue.

just
let
it
do
what
it is
ought
to
do.