conducting.

she knows what to expect, sitting across the table from volcano me. abstemious for show, i know the way into birdbaths, geothermal pools, ocean ice, or any exquisite semblance of antagonized aquatics. faucets, flirt fingered, flow when i want them to. like drift of night avalanche onto a little gasping girl at the foot of my mountain, arms reaching on either side and unavoidable, cast cold, cool, obdurate in knowing the only way out is through.

try to shake free from my tree, little leaf, you will wither without me, dust and disappear.

hold tight with all your life, and hear now… what discordant orchestration is not without beauty, in this day of end times?

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