is want like bloodmuck, brook’s stinking bank
a quartz-studded hunk of rock turned over
promiscuousness of bugs
all crawling armor and legs

want like raw clay that says harvest me, take me
home and sink hands in me to knuckle, wrist

give me your softness clothed in rough
bring back your taste to meet my throat, bitter aster
watch me taking it in like loam

like custard-yellow seafoam skimming the tide-line
the sulfur marsh that swallowed my sister
spat her out silted and kicking

palm whatever hank of me you put your hand to
fall on me thundering like the rain
carving a new trench in the gravel road