Sweet bits of spicy candy
Stretches drifted through
The rabbit squeaks a perfect
m has another stroke


The coloratura of this fantasy
Cassandra’s earlobe drifts down—
The rooster thinks it’s the moon

Like the easel that thinks
The rooster becomes a scythe
Visions begin blank like this

A baby rabbit wrapped in pink
Amniotic fluid so shimmery
A piece of wet candy

I’d give you a hand
But we need this shade
Hush, I’ll never leave

Perhaps all is being augured
That way she—

Looks like a pressed butterfly
Holding a bit of green leaf
Chlorophyll foam stains her teeth
The space around her scaly

We didn’t, look, that way—

Something will
come up
Fingertips sweep
Around her mouth
Alphabetical dust

Fire of your rearview mirror drifted
through. One house squeaks. The levees

has small cannon — The rooster thinks
teacher’s devils like the easel that

thinks things becomes scythe visions.
Begin blank like this, their stories

wrapped in pink amniotic fluid so shimmery.
A piece of shiny and flat sheets I’d give

you, the staff, but we need this shade. Hush.
Vestige’ll straight leave else all is being

augured. The young men she — A new regime
like amazement tensing a bit of a sweet life,

her teeth the space around our holy mother
some part the original work — A match

will come up fingertips, sweep
around my hands.

Adriana X. Jacobs

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