Hollow Lung

Your perfume
Escapes my breath
With cinnamon and sugar
And a numb understanding
Of consequence.

My vote
Is the capitalization
Of your announcements.

And had you realized
The sequences of fire,
I’d be longing
For turpentine’s redemption.

Hear as the caterpillar plays
A ukulele meant for God’s decree;
No more free than the bee
In afternoon’s delight;

I cried for your face to devour mine,
And in one fell swoop it seemed,
The crow had cawed
An afternoon’s black mass;

The serial distance to my heart.


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