The Raindrop in her Ear
this
before death dropped the mic
sea secreted in his eyes
a sliver of raindrop couched in her ear
a braid yarned toes together, syllable and sill
food fingered over stones and sand
each to each
on the hillside thunder bawked
seagrass lit lantern and lotus barking in the sun
the flight around mouths
each to each
the world’s wicked needle raves once again
not Berlin. nor Brooklyn. nor Tdot proper
(Taichung temples in the dark as hunger)
so after what walks away (snear of language copped)
the world stretched [_______]
the days alphabetized in the back of a gym, rib-cracked
loss came up the beach running with a name in its paw
and or end or another
what if
language unspooled and hair unglued the defenestrated word
what was the hour that held us up at gun point and rolled down the snub
the rain
the rain
the rain
the ant’s song in the rise of his heart
the drops of us between stone and sea wobble
together
no
maybe
yes in the floom of a subway caboose, worse seduced
and a pulp of language and a heart hot inside the sap of betel nut
wrapped in our throat down, slides
not again nor once, not everlong, only now
