he calls me calypso

I taste salt for the kick

floating through the day jaunts

when wayfaring was safe

to my brother lover:

"when an honest man

has nothing to say

he's said all an honest man can"

and that becomes a night vision

a flash in the chest

knowing what primordial thing comes next

blood and the push and the wet cries

for the leaving

{9|5|15}