A sun on a card on a patchwork box next to her bed, tarot sun and two lovers not kissing just looking at one
A fight to the death—the eel speared, Writhing, two crows, tactical usurpers, Hungry, greedy, sneaky, watched the eel flip, Dark, wet from the river.
MOUNTAIN SORREL Oh the myrtle so bright. The eyeslip, the bee. Still and know. And how sad I am, and for days on end.