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