Anna Taylor

Mound with a path carved through it
Circle tipped towards the moon
Fire from within
Released from the spaces
Funnels to connect
Two spheres 

Passing through
Brick that vitrified
Poured as glass in the space beneath
And thawed ice fell

I lay in hot water 
Above lying over me
Hail stones drive into the settled still
Level around the body
Brittle white quick
Piercing the feeling of skin's
Taut swell

Being as a point of passing
Bivalve: into and out from
Pockets of air convulse
At the water's edge
Bloom and dome depressing
Looped in continuous motion

Means by which they spoke

Divided from one
The jaw and inner ear
Fluid now fused
Head turned to the ground
And sound as matter

As though of time before
Existence ahead
 Of heat and palms flexing

Basics combined
Of fictive purpose
Place and circle
Connect with a regular surface