The phenomena of black suits contracting for my substance

a forestry of minute drops
against a tall story at feeding
apple cider cheeks
water for the doves
grasshoppers for the arches

terrified benefice for steps adurned
metre pilots in the enhanced sky
uncles on the latches of refractory chills
in the cold and disobedient register
seeding open a thumb-lever where Ezra dies

turnstile magnets for noetic frontiers
allowing grocery lists to pour wishes
forgetting we are meant to be damned
in a placeholder of folkways embellished
shall salvation find me nesting idle, but true
where stations remain embattled to hold ground
and arterial roads hold my tired countenance