the fore-
cross
becomes head
with blank
look
the smallest
blank
look
trying to swim
from a face-

my tongue is heavy
in the dream
like a burden-

the crosses
flanking
become shoulders
of man
afraid
that I
entirely
fear-

but there is a tunnel
dreamt into
mother
hillside
that is not
finished
that from
I emerge
where from
I went
to confess
myself
attached.