And as if you were left in a clearing,
Say beauty. As if these woods were fulcrum,
Say facts, the twine leftover. As if we were close
To our reddest edge, say vacate, mean escape,
Teeth-skinned and donkey-jawed. Say violence.
A last laugh. As if there is need for an alibi,
Say home, mean house. As if neither could burn.
Say fallen, as if it were a branch already
Mulched and turned. (You're boasted, detached)
As if beauty, the cartilaginous blue,
Could be anything but a heft. As if evidence
Weren't the cud-stunk cattle, the famished meats,
Moor-lines spitted with smoke, say sanguine,
Mean overdrawn. As if death were more than
A procession, less the epilogue always
Sleeping it, say you'll walk the dark tonight and mean it.