It is that I should learn so much of a soul backwards,
snow rising off the mountain trembling air sprung and singing, singing,
shoulders unshrugged before sitting, before eating,
unspilling salt into wounds.
doing a disappearing act,
which the undoing of does the acting and the doing at once,
doing the undoing the doing undoing does.
undrunk on a thursday morning, this morning, throeing morning,
I watch the sky split itself horizontally like it is unspeaking—
unlike you, I am still so unfamiliar with my own nature.
undrawn curtains revealing the seat filled unlookers,
each eye unbabbling breathless broken bough wow body
and yes, this is a lamb’s body, unsheared between my hip bones, holding steady still
unsure
we need a cliff on stage left.
Christmas gets even with me like Mary, no, the other Mary, a third Mary,
unbiblical chords flung down
like ribbon, like stones,
making a chalice of my little skull.
Eve gets even with me and I start spooning the blood back in
Because it’s mine it’s mine.
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