fallen between the abstract | a distant hallelujah          next to the clovesI slip and am unsalvageable, but I know howforgiveness is shaped even if I have never knownthe scent of purity | lashing out at horns thatbreed like passing streetlights before the fire ever began           nightswithout fire, without heat | the estrangementnow named home, the fireflies of Connecticutthat move me from...