I rumble as a dragon does,
and kiss as a bee landing upon a petal.

I wonder as I wonder,
as the sea churns as the wind churns her;

I have wings
that do not work,

stumps for feet
that run free.

You are needy and
all feeling;

I fly and then
dream up a why.

All those blessings go
downward into night dust.

The coal
is cold;

The one ember
flames gold like autumn September.

I do not understand what it is
that makes me mourn,

but when I mourn,
I rage.

Hyper with tongue and violence,
I pry open the ribcage

and lay.

And drink.

Flourish in darkness
That I alone think.

That I only made.