Has enough been 

said for the water in us?

Steps to mend, another

hot radial saw spinning

my gaze dropped to

the look of the dead

& yet another method to vanquish, yes

to hold dear as a bunny.

To harbor the hinge, harry

the quarter moon to its spot—

To listen with your hands cupped

just over your ears?

You have this one mouth.

You’re from tonight.

This poem first appeared in Blackbox Manifold in 2012.