On the Bubble

Burning up all that road
from there to here &
like a bird out of nothing sings
or waves
            drawn up against the rocks
she needed to know the names
                        words for things
            the way she felt I guess

wine-stained

            though the edges expect a
kind of color
(dark) & mixed blessings
across a page of
light
                        diminished now

or throbbing against the curb
say whatever you want

a cloud of dense pink smoke
descending