I come to myself in the feed want need.
What I’ve starved for a hymn
I’ve never sung. The only lyric
Now I try to hum
but the corsage of bleeding,
hands of shook grass clash.
I come with shoulders
square as jaws, and fists heaving.
In a baby summer I rest
my hand on my own shoulder
murmur whatever terror isn’t.
I unload the heart-gun
promise me. I kiss my sure. Come with me
I say to me. A wailing in the blood-
grove, I marry me
I run away with me,
queer shadow in my teeth,
the leaves fling from the trees
like tossed rice, the boughs bow.
I am borne
on wedded wind. I sing
a melody that rings like mother.
Now hear me whistle,
emptied of the oldest hunger.
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