where no light breaks.
a summer lost in a salt-marsh spinning silk.
where once all eyes of April
saw only green beneath the shadow of a crab
now flaunt their flesh of red and white in chase
clinging to the flies too far from home.
somewhere above the trees
now laughs the many skulls in deep retreat.
my eyes, my heart, my opiods. my drugs
cling to life on the jelly of a moth.
all heirs recite with caution
each word that climbs too high to breathe upon
to walk the thirteen steps to where I lie
as quiet as a candle in the corner of a womb.
my odours bleed as loud as death allows.
my skin as bright as turmoil
burning like a pilgrim with a table-spoon of salt.
no borders left to cross.
no love-bite on my lung to decompose.
I am beside myself in an oil spill
with gods\' green hands
and a thousand chromosomes;