This language system appears as undercurrent in Tokyo Butter

—on our first trip to the lake         only swirls


as gist remembered:     onslaught so relentless, I understand blizzards

—4th of July sparkler iced and flaring


           comet,                hypnotist’s wheel, every suggestion cold sunburst


lake acting up, up, uppity   —nothing to do with clouds:

its  ripples around her toes, my current





—much like salt, spewed   to melt it all:   our trips, our Whiskey Island



          —some are flawless

          despite how jewels are extracted, processed



              ice cubes melt

              into one full glass


gargle, gurgle

mouth spray, trickle



—snow flurries


              get folded in:


more and more obedience                         credo:


     no matter the raggedness of water during storms

later   on ravages repaired without her help,  she just   skated


certain she would not drown



              landing after lutz, after axel


every time

I make that happen

              every time:


          more and more obedience


 I clip  unseen wings

and there is detritus, snow


                  there is no damage


flat on our backs:

     if we really are angels

the weight of wings


     will pin us down                                                proof: sometimes



the same as risk:


              we look across lake and see no end

              so cannot speak

              ending the spell of not ending,


              our voices, our words unable     to seem infinite

              not that we require infinity of anything


                    we require only that lake be big enough  to stretch  beyond our limits


                                                     (one full glass)

     we required obedience


Inside, snow clinging to me   melted quickly,  water content

less     than that of a tear


yet measurable:     trace


              just like permanent transit,

              that I maintain, looped fraction  of second


between falling and arriving

—stay here


but I stood by the lake just long enough to wear a snow crown

then walked home with my father

where warmer, I was still royal, I was also wet



and Deirdre cried

when I called her    —loyal—      just to tell her that


flakes lined up in arcs                 (her eyebrows)

row after row      bleached covenants 



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