like a revivalist hymn
sucked marrow winter
red hibiscus flower
in the pink presentiment
accustomed to the impact of experience
your intervention names you—
new eyes to examine
all evidence to the contrary

in the middle music
insides removed
water rehearses rain
like a window re-
phrasing snow—
a country is that
which is believed
to inhabit the end of time—
whatever happens
between the people and the real—
war—overheard as aphorism

hands gathered
some distance from the speaker
what doesn’t break
the white noise of experience
becomes a kiss
administered to silence