We are rapids talk all night to no one, move shatter move, think themselves still.
Of all advice, I never paid attention I was looking out at barn swallows I wanted to see through break the sky and go past where I could see I never once heard what was said. Blood runs down the years, the place I was made and saw and wished not to see is gone it is locked it is buried I could burn all as well as know again.
Dark in the midst of trees and one sits low, what sleeps and what runs past. No voice speaks every voice is present telling. Saying rock drops on rock, shale and chert crack unless chucked in creek clay. Water pulled in pools scumming, blowing clouds of mosquitoes low cliffs over large lake throw bloated baby starlings high in the air where they land on gravel road. Car comes every so often alone the headlights wrench back night and sometimes drunk you don't see her green eyebright step in, brake shatter the back of a doe and the tears sung spooled among the fog where she is laid out thrown will tell her what you want to mean: O a mother.
Iroquois we know and never, hills with trees now trailers tires, boundaries water roads in names we cannot spell. We will bowl, tear tendons from tiny bones we pile brightest orange fat ripples in our bellies glistens fingers as we fumble, purr to sleep.
I only ever wanted to be warm the world screams white dunes crawl.
