by Mark Doty the boy’s face climbed back down the twelve-year tunnel of its becoming,  a charcoal sunflower swallowing itself. Who has eyes to see, or ears to hear? If you could see what happens fastest, unmaking the human irreplaceable, a star falling into complete gravitational darkness from all points of itself, all this: the held loved body into which entered milk and music,  honeying the … Continue Reading ››