Thin Film

It is egg undone, bending to shape

like salt of shells on a withering cape

a yolk of sun that drips to blue

a breath in December

I am almost hue

Nearing true I flush in pink

Taking smoke, a static sink

as wink is kiss from far away

an ink flamingo on display

3 weeks soon I am dead or branching

iron tree, I am sapped or lancing

with time I boil or set like clay

and so I bleed another day

it takes me wounds to face my shame

like pores on appeal, a rusting frame

I traffic breath and sink my teeth

cautious clown moves calcic reef

in sulfur sand I make demand

and make space for a growing hand

brighter still I start to wither

jaundice flowers

a reflection, a quiver

tapping sternum, feeling seen

reaching sky, canopy keen

a bird will cry in the dusk below

from cage of seedless undertow

nazar bound I leave my ground

falling into thinner sound

sightly words slip into new

эта Я тебя люблю

my throat closed purple long ago

tyrian mollusk, royal sew

skin and bone though large in feat

Like stars blink out through indigo heat