The rope felt the bark many times,

roughed it’s muscles, the hair fracturing in ice,

split the year in half and dangled -

pillars without a point running through paper,

nothing at once, one recurring halo.

Elaborate glass; stretch it out over the heat -

a body floating, a body standing,

opening up bright eyes, a thirst, a cough

under the shifting of a moustache, ten to two.

Subvertabrae.

And then some.