Apricot moisture institute [ReRites, August 2017]

Mind Slaves The counting place, ashes, birth a self-portrait in meat. Lightning a boundary somebody dreams. Finances, neon bold and benign, flowering in the cold chastening cranium. Mountains caress a silent lamp smeared in the stars’ weightless nuclei Nerves I am, fuck myself, a rimmed, crisis-shaved starting-to-rust grave. Arriving bees awaken belief No sweet-breathing joints Slow these ephemeral concession trances on the surface of glowing interpetation. the hickory under the intervening rain is a flame shrub nutrient, green, glare Real ledger cataracts examine the bleeding morning: yellow safeguard, accident season moisture institute, bereavement apple. The dead man used to swim in ponds, squinting at indeterminacy