Callow in a treasure cave

Peering through a finger hole 
Wanting finger stiffens

With chalky cuticles billowing 
All gargles of what is and isn’t

Catch a breath of something 
Deftly capacious

After divorces, dated feelings
Without notions of solidity

We are apparently just sieves 
And a statuette can sell, carve paths

Poke holes in the ceiling 
Cold shower glimpses of body thunder

A shudder feels truer than anything said
The consequences of focus took more

From me than love ever did 
A ringing to replace trust grows

Braying in the back of me 
As I recalibrate, digest

A feint stiffness wafts
Was once stiff in the back from laying

At altars, forever-beds, isms  
Send me a video of butterflies

Licking a carcass on a hillside 
If what matters is how the tongue

Gyrates around its little harem 
Be silent in the reverb tails of

Unprovoked claims of realness 
How many times must a confession

Be made before we begin to feel the same