Strips of world uncurl in front of me
rolling outwards like a rug, a tongue.
It seems simple enough to fold
and tuck-up into nothing, into stillness
your spilling hills, green against the dark
I have wrapped my reasons in
my want that blunts and blooms
while you move loose like fire
sure, fire. The life that ignites
flickers too, finds you alone
your body bent against the ledge
peeling back from black glass.