use a lot of muscle, lifting that fence
              it’s rotting at the post:

I can’t stop being seen, I’m glass

gray streaks on the blue sky
a bird crossing it
charged with what’s in me


the plane in the back of the sky blinks like a drone
I come at the air 


it takes me till 

the trunk is danger the leaf is danger
the post is danger	      in the air and no cover

sliver at the bicep


it cuts me, walking in the air:
I’ve sent shards ahead of me because

the fuchsia blooms and faces down, sending itself with its orange-red 
trumpets into the earth 
and thank god:

everything else faces me
glows, possible 
instrument


yellow leaf through open square of fence, leaf playing dead, bright yellow and it’s waiting


and I’m here, half full, the rest of me having been given

heliotrope fuchsia coleus geranium fists 

holes in the body, holes in the body of all of us

color holds, light leaves access