An incandescent honeyed echo:
Freely you have received.
Dancing in Odessa,
We sent stars back to where they belonged.
Cups of tea luminous where the liquid touches the china.
Shivering, you hover above the space into which you could fall –
Dancing on the sea’s edge you swing poised and icy above foam that eats through bone –
Morning-glories that flare red then fail as the dark meets the day. Turn on the world’s bright lamps.
I hum a deep-throated ember, hold –