*
The rain climbing along your wrist
makes it seem easy --you breathe
through your hand, for two
--it helps to wet your eyelids
look where water has taken root
in pieces, knows how to grieve
the way your arm throws out
its still warm breezes and each morning
heavier --dirt learned this long ago
still fills your mouth with the word
for sister so nothing
can break without thirst
or blossom or with your hand
crushing you for more tears
and morning after morning.
apocryphaltext Vol. 2, Nos. 2 & 3