Sky, Mouth, Eye
The sky is frustrated with
hanging above the earth.
It wants to fall and drape itself
� across those contours.
� The mouth is at odds
� with its tongue.
� It wants to rattle the air
� with harangues, with language.
� The eye is dissatisfied
� with the way it weeps.
� It longs to pour out
� spirals of wild fire.