Laura you continue in all this snow

Laura you stew and fill and melt
you make warm wood of us you clean

and clean the buck the intestines the bladder
you Laura roll it out salt it how long have we been out here 

the americas eight percent of the earth
your sod house a year of substitution 

earth for love earth for walls earth for flour
earth for privacy you fucked no one that year 

or the next but you allowed yourself a scrap of fur
a necklace of hummingbird skulls you made arrangements Laura 

the fieldgrass shaking I tracked you
through my own unheated winter 

I pinched flour maggots from our oatmeal
my new breasts aching in their cage Laura I was your kind of girl 

I took care of things I sifted scant cups of flour
none of it wasted half woman

half cutting board a childish version all the same