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Psaltery & Lyre

You Cherubim

how your cerulean skin slides / across the eye, refreshes like the lid / tripped by light, sweat, wind, sex, / / or a speck of mythology settled / in the corneal bed

Notes on Sin

“One law for the Lion and the Ox is Oppression: Blake is trying to tell you one moral size does not fit all, ya’ll.”

Swan

I scrub mouse blood from the floorboards / Imagining ice, / Imagining throats. / The dead stay dead.

What I Do Is Me

"Indoors, each one dwells, indeed, / feeding on the all-knowing glowing, blue- / light glazed, dazed, unmoving . . .

Excerpt from “This Dreamer Cometh”

When he arrived, / I pushed him backward into the cold waters of the earth. / We stared at each other through that dark glass, // and I held him there until his eyes closed, until the dead / came into view, until the darkness at the edges of his robes / became fingers reaching for his hem.

woodland

light meets a tangle of leathery leaves, / gnarled branches partition the wind, mandibles scissor, cuticle // disappears, debris falls steadily upon the sere understory.

A Hail Mary

One day with no eyes, no nose, no ears, / another day without a throat, / the skin on your forehead cracking, sinking, / obscuring the wheat field of your reeds.

12 Steps to the Basement

This is the only creed I’m willing to / say I believe: all church / basement rooms smell of stale / graham crackers, sadness and glue

A Gospel of Birds

She wasn't sure about heaven, / but she believed in birds. / On walks she’d stop to watch / a skein of geese

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