Page 48 - Iterations:Other/Is

there are things I own which I do not own when I place my face into the blue mountain of seven three, two one / need & honor choked, a river asphalt between & on the graves between & through Oranges
to either side in pages in retrospect stone & bone shapes for fossil fumed I have grown my #ngernails long as to gouge & when dream is camou(age for quantum mirror
#rst, pull the shape of the boat from the belly of the house then bite down between breaths as letters in honey soaked with ammonia lead ant trails to radiate copper onto heat
in words no longer reliant on the tongue as the moon does not need to be colloquial — it shivers with wine through a shaking feast asking what times will spindles take place & what should we wear
the mountain gave me many gifts, most of which I am unworthy
for what bee, set low in amethyst & sap pulls itself in again
to torture, a centuries agony stretch;
in the bones of house to cover
to hide
our voices become resonant, narcissistic, dwelling in dreams, then belly,
then tooth
always pregnant with infection at root