'Lip and Neck' by Samuel Hindolo at 15 Orient, New york

REPLACEMENT 

Last night, I gave your name to the breath of a smoking marigold, I fixed a lapsang sugar to feed the yard, ate candied orange rind in the street backwards, dreamed a weeping dream from under which you crawled unlike yourself but whole. I gave your name to 1000 sitting, lullabied on behalf of 1000 children, riddled against 1000 otherwise who might wish harm— it’s a gamble relying on flesh, a wrist charm thieved from a crypt will make gossip to the soul of the burglary: Symbiosis: someone tells someone, Someone shows up, we feast & the object found must be hidden again, sewn into the throat of a black ewe & buried not an hour past three.
Kissing, as we did, round back of the pastry shop, the smells of bread always pleasing to the body of a clay-oven, the male shaped gods boasting about the kitchen making drink while I, a little more complicated & desiring of brine, go shoreside where the slime will come some many years from now but today: sea pangolin going inland, a whole nother feeling to soil, the septic taunting of wetlands & birdlands grown strong in the epoch of prophecy, the end of the pesticide stag more probable as the island shrinks into itself a Man-made’s dream, that his life will become treasure at the bottom of the lake: a pair of neverfound arrows heads housed in amber, in the river two toys bound together by petrified rope.

— Gabrielle Octavia Rucker