try in october, say more

where current becomes rapids
it splits the blood beat, and
all of history drains in to
the ventricle, the muscle takes a
breath, then leaps, in sacrifice
and survival it tears its self apart
to preserve, to continue on, to witness
its lifey madness real, and
red in the dreaming sun,
its strength, fills concrete, broken glass
beach glass anything solid
and able to transmit light,
so in that moment strength touches its own
shadow, its toe turns to moth-cinder,
ash, smoke, ascension.