8.

we ignore this suffused light behind us

 

8.

 

we ignore this suffused light behind us

 

in which we see ourselves—the hammer-on

network of pillory

 

and pallet-wood limbs—the time-lapse cruciform

 

this naked tree-brother spun by the hands

of his kin

 

caught in the wire—may-poled between our strung-out

 

pulses—slow in the absence of the traffic

on our unanswered landlines and the need of our green

guitar—they build of him

 

a fire to see us better by, to slip the seam of our body

and soul.

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