part 1:
a pair of fleshy wings
has just touched the moon under the water
has time to move in
the radiance that eliminates the ocean
is finally pointed out when it is past

part 2:

one lip has been carved tender as grass
and a tongue so vulnerable it can’t help crying out
whatever was called       hired flesh from the dead
shadow dies again          is only then shed to become human skin

big white bird                   tiny baby
wings of trees flapping
from light               slipping terribly towards the light that lays you bare

part 3:

a tiny white grain buried in your flesh illuminates you.
because flesh is the only thing that can be lit up.
the dead,  they like a ceremony for childbirth

part 4:

cicadas
in the body
endlessly cry