pick your master under the cover of snow
bends of darkness hemmed to the tops of conifers
Soon I will visit to move you. Three appended signatures,
Three thousand miles of telephone wire.

This is the one letter I cannot send
for there is no address for where you are,
The one I wish to call upon has no receiver to respond.
And now all my teeth begin to fall out
Like excess light bleeding from your moons.

I know the sound of Glass when I hear it.
You have made weapons out of my junk and
Then gone to war without me, I see you
Against the whistling stars and overseers,
Anxiety makes this heart grow fungus
These fingertips weary, and I pull out my eyelashes
As if trying to see you better through this impenetrable
black nightness I lead myself into, until all that
were corners and crests become the precipice.

Insecurity turns to rooks, hatred turns to Jays
Until the weeping have wept and I visit to stay.