abraq ad habra

Do not blink.

I am pulling rabbits out of your eyes.

Taste the walk down Main Street:

I ring this bell for you to read my skin.

Silk scarves creep around forearms

& I can disembowel my index finger

like all good shamans.

Let’s saw the lovers in twain~let’s make

handkerchiefs shatter into three doves~let’s

sprinkle ashes over whirling stomachs.

Whisper to me one letter in one breath:

for we create as we speak

and I have much to say.