Another field, and: Decaying to more

Another field

By the time you think weaponry,the blood-script of tall grass,which must have been quickrazor-cuts criss-crossingyour arms, red lines of A'sand X's and Y's, and for all thatso little pain, by the time you seeletters they're already erasing,smeared, but it's very clear howin this same world, another field,a body blown to the groundhas already read every word.

Decaying to more

Such are the symmetries,you want to flailand stir air like milk

contributingto the meshthe deer breath

wavering as wellwith distant arrivalsof light

we are so closeeven in half livestouching

decaying to moreand more intimatespaces