An uprising Breaks like a wrist I feel it swelling Infected blind kiss You say I lost my nerve That the poems drank it out You say I should know better I believe you're right. Fragility, the bend of twig I am on a borderline Of effacement. I should know to plant myself To ripen and age with the animals Stygian, a stone burnished In a river I speak. I spill I take in arms Blistered and callous anamnesis I refuse to wash I emerge from the earth. Command of the mud His little rocks Stuck in my thighs That pricking morality That undeserved religion Rising, rising, Thick acrimonious root I am Still covered in slugs.