(you are made of metal; i am casting lines of gossamer and silk)

[eliason]

I drew you out with wires, hooked
under supple grapefruit skin. dark
and thick, inches of crableg
Jesus bugs and dragon flies,
troweled layers thick as mica dust

that shard of deep-edged flint stuck
deep within the hollow of your
inner eye, it rubs against your nose, and
edged in rust and copper bleeds

and as the morning pressed against
the iron surface of

Comments

[irrationale]

you have a keen sense of consonance and assonance, deftly manipulated with punctuation and interspersed with expert-level ambiguity. jesus fucking christ, this poem is visceral - visually, emotionally, physically. well done.