And so it came to pass that time was only a tent
we might unzip and crawl out from.
And there by the lake of burnt and silver trees
I vowed Hurt me.
And the world said How would you like it.
Let the lungs be pods in their filthy
The boy who has done impossible harm
sews a bracelet around my wrist, groove
Do you feel it?
Dog on the riverbank: his
name? The way the river
Love lands on my tongue.
The weeping and
in the stand of charred
firs; the sound
of the breathing tank.