I have lost, lost voices.

Shot,

shut the ushering whispers to

cover body of my body,  lost body. 

Then, I knew. 

Moist grasses, bitter eye lapels. 

No,

none crumpled souls  overhanging. 

On and on  only. 

On and over, 

two cerebral vapors 

of a porous sex .

Pinks.

Fulgurite corps in the thorny teeth of a compass rose, 

where mineral fade.

Inked, oozing the animal and vegetal screeching.