being / graze

 



evaporative forces and their



inverses brawl with



good nature—sitting idly



watching my own



humidity, sloughed and bunched



back furtively like clumps of wool.



 



blessing self for loving



shears—when my ears were



clipped, the dryness of the air



ate closer towards my eyes.



 



my muteness divulged by the rain,



roaring down through



capillaries hung limp from



the woolen clouds. not all



visual constructions are waterproof.



the channels quicken narrow, still.