being / graze


evaporative forces and their

inverses brawl with

good nature—sitting idly

watching my own

humidity, sloughed and bunched

back furtively like clumps of wool.


blessing self for loving

shears—when my ears were

clipped, the dryness of the air

ate closer towards my eyes.


my muteness divulged by the rain,

roaring down through

capillaries hung limp from

the woolen clouds. not all

visual constructions are waterproof.

the channels quicken narrow, still.