Altar-bread

salt line from line

disperse our constituate grammars

shrapnel shorelines with commas

give dyads to the birds

pluck you from you

littlecormorant, blackswan, whitefacedheron,

death can feed

so many solitudes

lose me to me

to the words falling their ash

on the paperbark,

the scrimshaw scribblegums

take me from me,

gnaw the radius what’s left

little sigils of carbon

christbones for some empty hands:

impossibly absent the word

the blossom-nomads descend

their gumleaves

& swanshot stars buoy the forks of

lacteal trees

wilt into rose dawn -

i’ve never yet deserved daybreak

while the wind gulls waves

& dovehail drums the rissom

tear the curtain,

burst the silo

there’ll be enough death

for lean ones & fat

seven by seven

gather almonds

every count one less

kiss the air, scatter this bread &

break it

berlin lit