Bones burgeon from
Flesh thin as gold leaf.
Rivers of paper tears emerge
Unchecked and indeterminable,
Yes even masks have teeth
Sorrows that reveal and collapse.
–
Shall I fill my days with longing
A radiant sun in a sheep’s vest?
Shallow mirrors track beneath
My sodden shoes, a reel
Cut in rainbows of gasoline.
I retreat slowly, then double back.
For