spark the flask—the vitality
of natured *****
and

tears (they fall again)

releasing the bloodied heron from
sleep—

yesterday,

I drew a lead around you
and harnessed your heart
like a dog and (for the first time)
you

were on your own,
schmaltzy from

daddy’s liquor.

this

blindfolded euphoria
creeping in channel 99’s

static—how

I’d drink you whole
until my toes swelled up

rough and one-rooted