The day is no longer audible and strange,
in the distance our skin contains the fabric that covers us,
where I dwell I love your surface; poppies
and porosity moving gradually,
it makes me want to drink the substance.
An attitude before the breaking doorway,
a thoughtful deal, not frivolous,
it’s a rising light in fatigue.
Immense celebration’s field,
a woman’s double smile’s literary,
known and continuous,
such nonviolence obeyed with longer flows from
these gnarled vessels is an open dark night —
then everything turns blue and