Metamorphosis

My wings emerge / While scars bear their teeth in my chest / And begin to consume me, alive.

Last Tack

I turn to see my brother / On the low side still / Awash / On the brink of the heaving / Jade abyss

Their optical illusion / Acquires depth / And governs minds

Poignant shot, that. / The upraised hand / Of a baby Macaque.

I miss your joy / At tasting the first fruit of each season

My two friends were beautiful / And in their eyes / Were the faintest of embers / Departing fireflies