Violets are hatching volcanoes.

Today’s bees have swallowed
                 The last milk of lanterns.

All the whisper goes out in a drum.
An empire separates inside the nautilus.

On a bed floating the basin,
We fall asleep in fog of the ancients.

By daybreak, we trill
Through cavesongs,

Skate our soles
                Toward the next aurora,

Listen to our fingers
                Kindled as white sage.

Then every cloud is a crib,

Every snowflake a small city
Falling on the eyelash.

Then child, you are cultivated,
Fit to obey
           The balconies inside you.

Now you are free to follow your prey.


Mai Der Vang

Erin Case, Cavesongs (collage)