i

there,
          in the pavilion, I saw you
          sneaking past the shimmering mount
          to that place between gauze and shroud
          in dew knots + gnarly crowns
          borne over the bowed heads of houses
                                               gathered there.
                                    in that place they wore
                                    cockatrice feather + aspen leaf,
                                    barefoot, tangled in masks + avian increments.
                                                 
                                            do you recall the fuss Venice made?
                                           “dearest progeny,
                                            we cannot supply so many
                                            articles of disbelief –
                                            please accept our humblest
                                                                     blatherings.”

                                                                     I thought for sure,
                                                                     but not now.
                                                                     when they ask,
                                                                     what do you say?

ii

I saw you
               despite the commands,
               despite what you would
                                                    see?
                                                    The stench gathers,
                                                                      beloved;
                                                                      you are ill with second growth.
                                                   the result is the same,
                                                   a single note quivering,
                                                   strained ,
                                                                    trembling in failed daylight.

                   your throat tightens.
                   the disease will leave you
                   a glassy stem and their
                   garland children will wrap
                   may ribbons from your neck.