You had a secret name fermenting

Under my tongue. I smiled and

It went yellow in my mouth.

 

A budding unseen burial

Ring shinnied silver tones

In my bone where you were

 

This is what you do in

Tiny doses. My medication

Never beamed old history lights

 

Or pinstripe lights your fingertips

Through a womb of dust

Stirred a new pigment.

 

I hear my heavy pulse like “rum,” like a thunder debate.
And of course, I smoke. I smoke thickly with my feet crossed,
Linoleum floors, creaking old dogs pacing ruts in the floor
Click the beat of the clock, of my thrum confused by
Its question: how did I get to sitting on this floor,
In the half-dark, with myself and a small glass and other heads,
A dog, a hand over mine like a prayer for a quilt being
Answered and since I smell like bonfire,
And there are not nine cinders in my hair like a
Tarot, Pentacles,
The Devil
The devil isn’t in a clean white bed at the top of the stairs
room down, In this empty house we cluster,
dogs digging trenches and jewels glowing through the floor.