Letter headed grains of cement flow up
like reversed particles of snow sick of flowing down
changing back through the air
dancing through change like a gift and drift
raising us all, salt watered skin and all, seeping skin
and other numbers of bone like it
count the days no more
dancing back the in the waves of binary and soil
back to the starting arena once more
unaware of the birds that join
old neighbours within this world
acidic tongues biting the cheeks of day
lap at them now
forgetting the steps
and remembering how they join
in rhythm with the words of hell and grace, inking them
marking them
with gestures of spectrum and instinct
of flight over the greys of practice and time
which soar all the same
more sleet flows down now
intricate waves of flight collide against skin
as you separate and centre
held by the substance of your eye
grounded by root
like the sense you have to run
to the flood in the sky
where we are comfortable and coded
walking in metronome
painted by the herds of many
but formed by one
and fed by much.