About

There’s Earth. Amethyst. Cherries in heat. Trees drooling sugar. Midnight’s blue song. So what
heaven? That kingdom wholed by a coy god’s touch? Where green and the river began? If
all-father tells it, first you slave and shiver and shuck and die and die for heaven’s
around-back gate to budge loose at the bent speck of you—lies. No doors, no lines. Look right:
me and mine kissed alive—greening. Curl up and chime against us—the river’s born here.

It all started when…

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