Oven off.
TV stilled.
Spine blind.
Roots told.
Fly drowned.
Fields molten.
Tired of feeling everything, the lake takes no more prisoners.
May ancient wars travel your brow, may the skulls of jaguars call you
with their emperors,
Green nerves, liquid tesseracts, goodness spooling—
May you wake
Bellied, deserted.
Years gathered.
Feet mended.
Being steeled.
Guardian howled.
Emerge from the milky eye.
Held as you are by no one in particular, loose in the hands.