Have seeds like the tongues
Of hummingbirds. The sky
Cracks their angles, stars dripping
From the buds
Of bird-brained melodies,
Their wings lit underneath by moonlight.
The same that illumines roofs of cars
That have been murdered for their alarms.
Or is the bluing moon lit
By hearts of the Red Sea? The distance
Between you and the land when your spine’s
Been drained of all of its waves is my door-head.
I’ll wait at the entrance for you, with strangers
Our One Self hasn’t seen for many a lifetime.
You’re the hall, ship sinking, flooded
With waves that lead to me.
