Origami Elephants

The soul abounds

I

--soul abounds
--soul abound[ing]
--[soul a]bound

tight of light settles on and yet this brazen warrior’s aerial
tissu trapeze balances with the tense filigree of our brows,
where upraised all puzzles and rumination flit

to the right contortion
into woven moss of silk


II


--soul [abounds]

as eidolon, a Wushu fighter, controlled
burst of deltoid kinetics--

and yet the leapt vertigo machine lays hidden
neath pointed feet where we jester the polypi
of clouds,

climb yew’s soft cilia nightdress
up to a moist dew-bodice of sky

where's the dirge?
The static aria of birds?


III

wind:

they've gone and silenced
the colluvia



(Note: This is a sample poem from an up-and-coming chapbook, ek-ae: Ekphrastic-Aesthetics)