Confession While Seeding Peonies: After Tiana Clark’s “Equilibrium”

the only prayer	committed to memory
has cut mute	rehearsed last
with a greasy throat	in a voice drawling
as northern glaciers	my windowed flowers
sluiced in sunburns	refuse to widen
for any sun	blooming only
when permitted	at which time
we swallow perfume	& move warships
with our tongues	I have been removing
cactus spines from	my sides since winter
trimming others	that have gone on
so silently	a small sky twirls open
reveals a steady light	one with any name
other than my own	the cool dirt eating
finely abrading	these shuttered hands