the body deflects steps one foot out of itself
hip, thigh and slides towards a slouching
everything, now following hands. not fucking
not even touching, though i’ve heard rumor
of breath on flesh. out, out skin. the sun also
kicks down beneath the ground.
i am this.
of bones and sand and soles shredded by wind.
this. tracked by sky, vultures, flesh raked
over rock. deader than indians. deader than
gods. i see you, crazy horse, shackled,
spinning like a madman. one last sun setting
down another splintered spine.