I dreamed my earwax bloomed like coral and that I
would never get it back. The tip — then cuts: a
spinning disc, a silver fish, a CD. Bright as a blade
through a tapestry. fine LED. cool basketry. O! to
gut the sky of its blue and the sun of its yellow and
to be brightly so lemonly green. So blows the
anatomical blowpipe, so thatchèd and so weaves.
White pants, magnolia bloomers, how the effort
wearies me. Thin-hum colour in a leaf so hung, the
spray that is to be. I see and love, I let, I leave and
leave and leave. He splits his face, so hurt, so
closed, shut as a bitter seed. So hurt, so closed,
so gone from me. A rock: a blown screen.