lambent red star

supple branches have pierced
spaces and snatched the chill

and if the violent provocations
of supple redound into further spaces,

then the boats will hope sink-
ing into their heavens of mire.

mires lend into each other similarly,
although this remains a metaphor.

this connection is the grit of things and
the things adhere, one onto the subtle

furs of a cat and then the ursine heavens.
and when her feet are caught in it.

linear equations too have imputed her with
wistfulness, that most dangerous constellation.

slushes run along grates in solemnity
as the people aghast in the red star.

splashes of red color us as mars
lilting in neptune’s orbit and wake.

is she aghast?
she has assailed all conscious bulwarks.

she believes that by morose features she will be within
the frost of liquids freely intermingle, that is all.

is that all?
what remains to be seen is a fair analysis of “solemnity.”

he is reminded of her spaces and his.
the spaces of her body tarry, then jubilate when objects

pass into sight: a pair of needles, used, a jar, new, a new
jar of oranges suspended in the warm viscous.