nightglossed until what
whetherveined scopes of nakedness
between us, two bedbreaths
away from the somehow sound of unweeping,
which found something too:
the membranes of Europa:
steamsteeped shoals of giant unwant in hovermore
grandmother’s legs: a quartz bullet in the bonehouse of despair
rage like a real cloak of sincerity/like a way into any vanishing point
an exolexis-headed exclamation of redemption:
o what arboreal backstained shadows make metafaces!
o what backstained shadows make arboreal the semigod!