Meet me in the dovecote,
home in on the honeycomb
and I'll show shards of teeth
broken when I bit lightning.

The tongue went mosaic, a replica
of the replica; now I speak
when I'm spoken to. Wait
for a shirt to be lifted, compare
how sun passes through wounds.
Hand prints of a lost grip.

Jacob, was it your hip
against my hip, a message tied between
feathers that floated away with my voice?
Split the larynx, feed this summer, tell it I'm sleepwalking,
that I spit fists and fill shallow pools.

Listen: power lines. We’ve got to get through
this thickness of wires. I've swallowed
swords, applied the squab’s heart
to fevered feet and tied
my tonsils in a thief knot.
I invited you.

Shoot this bird and lose one
hand it only takes one to knock.
Only one breath to
ask.