Christine Hume, p.4


Each lift convinces the centiplume
        to swallow what keeps being sad
                when she became a body

I had to see her
        circulation, I had to see it
                as a mirror, inside its wild

The proof makes another light
        her moth-talk holds the signature
                of shift--grey wings in her throat

Revolving as if the key
        to propulsion were a belief
                in vanishing helixed to the brain

Night jars shake in the glass
        we eat sugar from spilling handfuls
                because starving requires

Her head stolen, her arm still curved
        against her husband's back
                and quotation marks emptied

Of hand forget to take--
        drafty as singularities, fast
                for her lungs; even then

2. swallow]. That's still
5. circulation]plagiarism
7. makes]asks
9-10. throat/Revolving]voice/Never did alight
13.] Blindness in her draft
19. take]shape
20. drafty]bodiless]elsewhere]alluring
21. verge of leaf