This is how you disappear Out between midnight, Called up under valleys Of torches and stars. Foot, knee, shaggy belly, face Famous hindlegs, As one of their own You graze with them. Cro-magnon herders Will stand in the wind, Sweeping tails shining, And scaled to begin, SHUTTING DOWN HERE SHUTTING DOWN HERE – – To where necks Leave the air Unpossesed And giant heads lock Constellations. A last grain of dust Lands in the darkness On tongues laid bare, And turning to chalk. Shutting down here. Freezing in red, Bent over his ice skin, The insomniac gnaws In the On-Offs; He is glazed In the hooves All round. It is losing its shape. Losing its shape, As the heat In your hands Carve the muscle Away. And he grins From a break In a backflash. Delivers it up On a break In a backflash. Motionless brands Burn into a hipframe As a saviour Loads sightlines Backlit by fires, On the ridges Of the highest Breeder