[Little Snake River]

Lightsey Darst

Wildflowers: columbine, woodbine, rue & ironweed.
These hands have long been asking the question

What was it that (every evidence erodes
……..in time) soft
tissue my lips, my face

I was cutting flowers I was picking blackberries
a pharaoh’s daughter a suicide a hooker

……..the identification carefully made and mother
yes this is my fleshless grin, what was under it
(sweet girl)

I have worn ivory and cold river stone, teeth
….and enemy skin

….the dogs have been at my legbone
….the dogs have been at my armbone

All that I am, channeled in slow rot
& sinking further into this alien architecture
……..of the inside

…………I listen to a man whistle, a strange man breathe
……..water falling out of the sky

fourteen years

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→Volume 3