i make signs everywhere, with sticks, stones and leaves
for those in the clouds from below the line to arrive
i don’ t have a language to speak to you with, my tongues are all fish
i know that a one is a circle, and that nothing is round,
except every corner i saw by the hearts
lined up on the spine
i know that the winter will finally be here again, and that the summer
will die and be born with its ice
i unravel the token you gave me for freedom, i bury the flags in your eyes
under each Arabic sign... 1,2,3, on and on... and before
i varnish again all the battle grounds freed to travel the face of 2 yews
i remake every button with children put down by 5 tons of your crosses
i am flaking with crust at the dangling ushers they fall for light signs
i make my car shake with my fear, the headlights are showing me songs
by the road for the now disappeared, shots crack by the ones that
remain
i can tell by your lies and your pride that your heart is as small as your pupils
opening up for your strokes
and getting smaller for light
i am the siphon that gravity fills up the blanks in your face with
i sing a throat full of gritos, for the safety releases that shots spill for you
i salivate for your spiraling warmth, in the morning when i collapse, over and over
i have all our love letters taped to the ceiling, my sleep is the end of our flies
their warbles keep rolling
i double the maps on your roads
i put a slab of meat on your cheeks
i thaw every word that pours ends through your blood
i turn in the hair that your father hung with, erasers ring mountains for more
i pick up a chair for the lightning, satellites put out a bead
i bleed in the real that you see with a shine, pieces of chicken pile up to count nukes
i tear off the rain, and cut its numerical age into passing truck tombs
i force your faces to mine, and bother your ebony whirls to circle the holes in the sky
i fire electrons to make your promise discard its word, and fall through
i tie miseries to drains, and pay off my debt with suns
i am more cruel than a counter
i pick a safe with your words, until my distance is short
i slap at your monthly returns, and tie your animals to 5 dirt seas
i ride through your roads in the glass, and steal tiny cracks
i blame the small stone hid in my colorless mouth, and pin rags to your lips
i volunteer for your wars, and lose them all
i borrow your daydreams, and purse up their gardens, into our hands
i pulse with you standing by rocks
i say all you said by the iron door
i throw kites in the room where they found me
i sell off inseparable fingers
i throw windows to walls
i whispers hard rings into telephones, and scratch at the bed
i fade into water
i remember the hands
i open holes through barbed houses
i blow darts through your tunnels and doors
i pile roofs through our wounds
i move through your runs and your screens
i see the news in the sand
i digit up noontimes
i peel off my skins with old sounds
i walk through the valley of lead
i unplug your pages of light
i frost over programs and ride 3 roads on 5 deer