not verb, but vertigo :: eleni sikelianos

          —after Alejandra Pizarnik

A yellow scraping across my skin when
I write the word “sky”

Not sky but scything :
       to let day be scraped out
             by night

I scratched down the word “flower” & felt
  the parts draw away from the tongue.
     Not gnomon, grown*man, but ghost :
           to gnaw on the crisp
                 skin once it’s been stripped
                 down from the meat

the neat meat

hiding under the table
of the skin’s

right at the juncture where day/night meet
you can see it indicated by the perforated lines

what parts of us that don’t cast a shadow