it’s okay if no one finds ’ll make ribbons
out of the sleep
we’re not getting.

and we’ll peer through drops
of dull-eyed dawn – they’ll sing
like poets or all manner of angels.
ignore the wilting Audens in the wall.

let me be
the snake that swallows you whole.

play the egg
that designs the gaps between my scales.

if you’re kind
it’ll look just like the seed I’m nursing in the wood -

it’ll look just like the tigers do in Africa.