eleven buzzing ghaitas chanting intestinally
connected her to the hills. crayola wrapped
herself in the space opened up by the reverb

& when she awoke she spotted a soft pretzel
circling the sun. july is a month of visions,
of a talking inside the arm, it's big-sniffery

in a village filled w/hips & trailers & inside
of the reeds she swore there were two rivers
& a cake that was yours just for the asking.