stars were huddled in the corner of the attic window
like dead sacs of spider eggs. i guarded them
while my teeth chattered until my jaw splintered
into tiny beads. with them i made a necklace
out of string i spun from clouds.
the sky was eroding them and they were nearly too high
to pull down. some of them caught and tore
on the latticework of trees; they held there
like spiderwebs. along the coast
i was followed by a lion; the ocean spat in my face
and the waves grabbed at my arms.
i fell in. i was carried past the horizon
to a cliff face; it was too smooth
for me to gain any footholds.
the lion followed into the sea and hunted buffalo underwater.
i joined it and hung my necklace in its mane.
a day later we broke through the glass surface of the water,
thoroughly drowned.