Our bed filled with lilies
and vowels the color of indigo buntings
and other epiphanic terrors.
We were creating this
plural. We genie polished & stretched
muscles’ roses, the origami of
spine and limbs, and rushing breaths.
It seems our job is to disperse
the mind around us--
bolts of sky, cells’ silly scribbles,
pergolas of grief. Let bodies
consecrate then disappear, reduce
all to a single vowel
the size of a vole’s skull.