Lance Phillips


Dark Gate

Vitalism her thigh contracts
Moving through rain

White cloth, ceiling vaulted,
Instance of death in the eye
In the dream

You lack that responsibility,
Pearl across scene,
Replace your hand



Curl in succession, blackberry
Leaves, composite leaves, four
Origins: chaos, earth, the pit
And love

“Any ghost simplifies my time”
Bodily   Who I am transitions
Into body in history, reverses
Casting on   from her hand



From downspout cardinal

“No, these are tableaus in which
Face is repurposed, its purview
Expanded, because stripped
of need”  Mouth works or
Doesn’t against honesty



Oversent, her shoulder, touched,
Consumes each young swallow
This alignment controls you
In time     Skin crease over
Sternum produces altering
Sequence, crickets from door



White death and then simply
Moving cardinal, once,
In place of her face    There
Chronology shifts, wavers
As symptom of talk
Dislocating red arc

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