Asleep my youth, flesh and appetite
Under the sun-devouring clouds that shade
The oak
Skin like cicada, buzzing and crisp
I have but to bury myself for 17 years
And leave my after-death, dry as shed skin, walk forward
The new pollinator, blood up and steamy
As summer peat
This new fish, feeling its unused dorsal fin
Sliding in a sexual river, carving canyons and rushing
To the sea
A new Adam, cutting through the green vine, fingers out-stretched
Touching all, electric, bold and
Reborn
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