After "Envelope" by Sean S
Over my shoulder startling bright as snow
tight as blue corpuscles, starlings for eyes
bank hard against the squeezed rash of
ice shambles or pinpricks mistaken for a body
half asleep still in the envelope of K’s house
gum and slip, cars and trucks after cocoa
hot coals or codas, we signal one or another
through mail slots, down cables, along underwater
valleys over streamered satellites I lick
curtains of sleep from your body to let sunlight
through, a few steps from Williamson, gently
as blanks fired into the night sky spark
fuchsia silken dahlia petals in you taste of
rose as burning day smacked through us
already broken
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