I cut an eye-shaped hole in the earth.

Wolves come pouring out.

Cemeteries without end

feeding the speech of tall grasses.

Water that roars

and the veins that guide me

exploding into space.

Help me over the fine ridge

dyed multiply with fallen nature.

Stab me into the vortex of struggling souls.

Let me come up from the distance

of trees in the shadow of other trees,

let me be stained with solemnity.

And let the colors rule the world

with razor strangeness

as I sleep with the chaff of gods.