you fall like umbilical cords
for the purpose of befriending
bacteria at the site of your
bloated corpse collection.
the way you make me vibrate is a
witch trial, my talismans shaking
as i grasp the embryonic roots. do you
know what kind of flora we found
in the red maple swamp today? do you
wrap around the left horn of dionysus?
there is a space between your lips,
not the upper, not the lower, but the
plane at which they meet. this is where i
want to stir my cauldron, this is what i
want to bathe in poison.
water bearer! do not bring me
indica, do not bring me purple orchids,
i am only pleased by small mammals
writhing from the corners of your fangs
(a secret that can only be sealed sanguinarily).
and now tell me: when your veins
turn like supernovas, when your minions
dance for you in throngs, do you exhale
the debris? do you eat the coral berries?
do you remember when we hunted that
mammoth in full cryogene, in full rhapsody?
i held you at the sun's eclipse as time slid by like timid snakes.
