You need the dirty tree
the beetles
and amber is the dog
thirsty for viscera,
curses the bark,
the vomited leaf litter.
Towards the center is the resistance
the flesh prostituted in ebony,
endless discourse
among onyx ants
put to dry in oil,
the night ascends,
you undress liquid serpent.
You bite the moonless skin,
rusty scorpions
dead in the storm
devour the roots.