in the tropical blanket
when the forest whispered
the first letter of your soul
you held a soft stone
to the empty ***** of earth
and chiseled pieces off
its skin to the beat of
the cracking rain pulse.

in the thick of moon milk
when my hips shouted
the number of your pack,
we burned the guts
of a fattened pine
and watched its tears and blackness
escape with howling fury
into the crystal shards of wind.

somewhere in the plasma
where you had scratched eyes out of
trembling waves
where you hid the drops of saturn
that otherwise would have collected
on the surface of your dreams,
an eagle laid her eggs
and dusted them with starlight.