Alarm

Self are you toward the pool

No then closer

Night’s not on the list

of the glass-green water

It loves your legs the water

It is mica and night honey

mushrooms and legs

I tell you about my childhood

You hum over

your future tattoos

Long hands Particular

islands Plums

It will be such

a sad century

you say

Do you really

want to survive it

Green-glass water

The shapes of leaves

clotting in a fuller

patience of water

Urn

Water

Flood

come through the door