then, the next love;
tremor in the bones, your god laughing at me at midnight, wild honey rotting on the kitchen table
- i don't sleep, i'm still counting the crows in the trees,
this ship could sink when the sun has set her thousand hands to the sea, when that blue gapes wide open -
i wanna ask him, soundless like a cloud,
does my hair smell of the war,
does it keep you from hurling yourself against my skin,
does it terrify you not to know how to split me for your mouth,
does it leave me strangled by hunger like sparrows in winter
(won't it hurt us both) ?
i wanna ask him
do you see the woman or the bush burning now that you took a look?
the howling needs an answer but he
sings
into me
- a different kind of sinking -
& the sound is some prayer or whatever leaves the body
before we make it out,
suddenly
i think i'm too soft to shout.