Exoskeletal Gesture

Venom erupted from the trees when the vital system of the brook reset its serum stem. Can suspended snakes compose a more careless music? Do two detached wings count as an exoskeletal gesture? A hiss is the sound the sky would make if these leaves revived their flight.

The sisters of the broken candle

covered every window in the house with x-rays of my bandaged eye.

"working backwards from the sky" says she follows every fissure until it's
time for the stiches to come out. When something falls you should pick it
up.

"spilled sand and lamplight" has been my sister for a while now.

They say we are slivered glass. Fluttered numbers and milk. Flickers
sutured in skin.

They tried to convince me that half the word filament is night. Every
rattled out lightbulb means a brother's pillow is burning.

We all watch the clock. Eyes running out of aluminum. 

The Rain of the Ice

The horse's pain never imagines a house beyond the storm. Its mirrored breath forms a force that dies without noise. The ice in a sickened room is not salt. Its perfume pours a rain that deletes the tacit skin.

The Forest Formed Gills

The ventriloquist’s vines fled to an address on the floor of a cumulus pond. The forest formed gills. The tentacles muttered. Eat a bee. Try to project the tiniest star deep beneath this fence. The ravaged shadows repaired in the shade. The numb panorama rewound.

Related Poems

A Green Crab's Shell

Not, exactly, green:
closer to bronze
preserved in kind brine,

something retrieved
from a Greco-Roman wreck,
patinated and oddly

muscular. We cannot
know what his fantastic
legs were like—

though evidence
suggests eight
complexly folded

scuttling works
of armament, crowned
by the foreclaws'

gesture of menace
and power. A gull's
gobbled the center,

leaving this chamber
—size of a demitasse—
open to reveal

a shocking, Giotto blue.
Though it smells
of seaweed and ruin,

this little traveling case
comes with such lavish lining!
Imagine breathing

surrounded by
the brilliant rinse
of summer's firmament.

What color is
the underside of skin?
Not so bad, to die,

if we could be opened
into this—
if the smallest chambers

of ourselves,
similarly,
revealed some sky.