Cocoon

for D

Verdant leaves stretch out before the pillar,
but agony of appetite remains
an exclusivity of repertoire
that swallows ceaselessly to stifle pain.
Things curl or cocoon themselves even on
spreading surrender in a milky purl
which encases head in own depression
and broods in chambers dangling from the world.

Behold! What was done for mention of summer
now ekes out air, exfoliates color:
a chrysalis whose clamorous chewing
rips from voracious toil sap-slung wings
waves a manifold swathe’s purest butter
to grease the depths of the heart from dolor.