and to think of the seed as just another
artifact of itself
off the fall,
the peach boys attached to their pit
neither of us knowing the feeling we belong to
the swearwords of a liver
unconscious in sound bites
a gift of music
retreating
from these intellectual property rights
in the lower abdomen
he branded his swell
of advice
caution tape traced in dandelion wind
a line between hoof and mouth