You know how it is here at the end
the inseparable separation is a necessary one
like loosening from the herd stolen heads
and moving a bit backwards
Or loosening from one’s own head
the unheard, stolen life honey-hidden
in the cave of resonance long ago
there is a reverse metamorphoses in the
mother-daughter reflection a man carries
between his eyes under his hat and
nobody gets in to the ballpark anymore
without checking under his own hat
psychic shadows; both the differentiating
lovely spirit bent on a psyche’s destruction
and the loving one reaching across its own
abysmally painful separations with the
newer, (but still disturbingly) unknown
will to live is no longer a monochrome
of singular reflection –everything is
contingent on how two go on from two
blue water is, you know, a milk bond
one and many separations at once in a life force;
the power to let go is something bigger
the power to seek one’s own boundary way
in the many ways draws together and separates
drawing and separating inalienable
fluiditities of any two rights
not enough or too much
the same thing
each will
reshapes matter out of love
and hate and the will to risk
what shadows will say
in the roots above
to the roots below
and when you climb into the tree of your
inversion, each picture show will feel
for where the real fluid formation
has reached its lowest level
shapeless blues inform prickly edges
soul fleshes
almost touching in the herculean reach
of precise but invisible feelers
red cows grazing in red fields
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