Diego Enrique Flores, Grass I (photograph)

In continual guidance towards
the light, I walked forever, 

my trepanned skull whistling
in the wind, an extra coal-y eye

from which I was seeing
all colors, all color

and the shadows on the inside
of my eggshell face had never

made such pleasing shapes,
birds and trees and mammals

who expressed no interest
in eating me, only licking

my ears and reminding me
how precious it is to hear

breathing on your neck
when you have allowed it,

when you have asked
for it, said, please come

here, I would like to feel
your fur and pulse, sugar

and the shivering weather.


Annah Browning