—Its juices that have greened my chin
We come gnawed by need on hands and knees.
As a creature ( nosing ) grubble-seeks a spring.
As bendy-spined as bandy snakes through saltshrub yaupon needle-brake.
For darkling green;
for thorn-surround.
This absorbing
quaggy
crample-ground.
Of briar-canes ( intervolved with kudzu-mesh ) and mold.
Of these convoluted vines we grasp to suck.
To taste the pith—
the lumen the cell-sap flux.
To try to know
some ( soursharp ) something about something.
Lumen is as lumen does.
‘ A little room for turmoil to grow lucid in. ’
Leafwhelmed in here
where Clary sets her cart-tongue down ( and blinks, and craves ).
In here where Tynan breathes.
We grasp to suck to taste what light.
Let loose the bale that bows us down.
—Bow down.