I was driven, & I was moved. Your book travels through identities at night, like deer eyes I saw glowing over a road in upstate Wisconsin, arresting. Your words keep coupling, two-headed four-eyed figures, awefright of these deer eyes, transpitched, everpresent, like your mother in these lines:
my mother was a
birdsilence asked me
to revisit pastures
Staying with you in mourning birdsilence: combinations of words over syntax—I remember another poem of yours, another word, “evilbeautiful”, I’m sure you didn’t just use it once, you hopeless romantic, watching the words and their mating rituals.