(some absence)

that paper cup holding back—a night—sweat cuts, to a lip—in expanse of his breathing—in—moving out into the grass, never stopping for—a streak, scant, of star flashing—palpitation, or eyelids firing, or weight of love—cast forking spider-silk I claw, that—wake in this blood-tremor—and—clasp from mooning lover.

Ian William L.