lie a walk
on the edge of eyeline,
mapped under snow
or against a white quiet,
toward or from
a light blondness, recall
in spots: parched lily,
horizon, upright rifles,
grass dry, an egg basket,
a sun hatches, inside
the corner field, where
I would stand, propped
in the kind of insincerity
talk is the cloth of,
where stems break apart
the thick weave of the air,
there is a dryness,
inside your formal body
a kind of fraying
I can no more border
inside the very
word of you, a straying
