salt line from line
    disperse our constituate grammars

shrapnel shorelines with commas
    give dyads to the birds

pluck you from you
    littlecormorant, blackswan, whitefacedheron,

death can feed
    so many solitudes

lose me to me
   to the words falling their ash

on the paperbark,
   the scrimshaw scribblegums

take me from me,
   gnaw the radius what’s left

little sigils of carbon
   christbones for some empty hands:

impossibly absent the word
the blossom-nomads descend
   their gumleaves
            & swanshot stars buoy the forks of
            lacteal trees

wilt into rose dawn –
           i’ve never yet deserved daybreak
           while the wind gulls waves
           & dovehail drums the rissom
           tear the curtain,
           burst the silo
           there’ll be enough death

for lean ones & fat
  seven by seven
gather almonds
  every count one less
  kiss the air, scatter this bread &
                                                        break it