Susan Lewis

Some Covet

          (For EM)

what others seed and sow. Still others stretch until their shoulders unblade. To swing, romance the 
trees. To medic unfair whether, shine with the butter of enough. You’re antennae, who isn’t—too 
receptive to set an example, undulant in the breeze of happenstance as diamonds strung between 
our greedy dreams. In synthesis eludes the love-child of truth & lie, its gleaming checkered path, its 
printless fingers ringing your full throat (silent). & sacrifice, virginal as lessons learned. (+ artifice, 
vestigial as quested grail). They may not cease gnawing at your infrastructure, offered as freely as 
God’s business card at a convention of lost souls. Don’t shy from this deafening light; it’s been 
parsed to persist through your boldest surrenders.

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