That bold disinclination of a sliver
of civilization pre-sets

with discretion in a movement’s

long elision

Instead of preening to utter
a blow

in small pockets of substance
being the stuff
of eclipsing at last

take a word to speak

Your long
your serpentine moods
your birth

and muted strangling stopped

A pre-selected throat
resting signs of all other harmonizing

betting solely on course