Bodies bleeding out of the flower mound
slim exercise for everything and the color green
drum heads doubled up in the mushroom stalks.

Bronze eyed throwers
flayed with white mud.
Waves that curl at the tip
and pause alive as pen ink.
Furrows running that have spoke their depth
shipsides bending to the ancient life,
a cracked quartz
in the distant surface.

Ice ropes nipping at a glass hinge
living candelabra.