04: devotional
you remember how to drown.
there is light limning the dark trace of skin
against bone the glimmer of smooth scale.
here, aspen eyes and the space of their absence,
the opal of fallen stones.
the blooms of heat against glacial scales, mist -
how they rise. their tongue bitten
between teeth, their mouth blunted against a vow,
and the sea rises like a lash.
hold their fingertips like unknown shapes,
name it worship, name it unremembering.
and their ribcage, parted,
and the flute of their bones, the hue of their
batwinged heart. the seawater spilt.
the bared land becomes unfamiliar
underneath them,
and the sky splinters in lightning.
you remember how to drown.












