write the sounds of recovery

limned in hums, rushes, buzz-snaps sutured from spark and the stammer of
just-stilled strings shrouded in their own cast off so shifts the air hollow with

held-air, a sucklung full, a belly-gasp garbled in wound and, quieted, the
soft thud of a leaking held shut, teeth teaching discipline to chin mouth taught
and tongue tucked safely (for now) tucked behind rows and rows redundant
as sharks and as sharp

swallow, rattle, whimper, where once tracked toe and tread together there
now hums only a mechanical threat, a bird braced braked and brought to bear
without one foot foreign

trace where lines light limning launch and perhaps there will be no sounds this time
perhaps there will be finally quiet on the rattle planet
as one more gear goes smooth and stops