conscious/fire.

giver and magnanimities are snow-
falling into the wind with no sun
and earthless behind stifled sus-
tainer that blends and strums-- i
take my head in my hands, and all

the while kate has got my soul in
some kind of imaginatively griev-
ing euphoria: yes, it's like that
now: buildings cracked through to
the underground or weeping sister

my bloodied ichor remnants purist
but iconic mirrors reverberations
of the name you never told anyone
and that rests gently sleeping in
every series that we both played;

every so often i stop and i'm un-
able to countenance the fair even
blush that teases the creek, hold
open such l'effrontée swollen and
pushing secretive legerdemain you

safe warning-shot woman.. of bold
and alternating metempsychoses of
redeemer shouted-out mount marble
and wit that the enchanter offers
pulling faces, laughing, "you can

sit in between the seas, and want
to bathe," and then i fall apart:
we've been busied with the fallow
ground meanwhile the fore is mag-
netically dolorous & appropriate.