worm

called
not to buried sleep--not
to wait close wrapped
for wings
inside thick skin
beneath warm dirt
but
here quivering, unskinned
to unfold
heart, belly, bones
unravel grubmouth, to
grow feet
hands
soft
intorn and squashable
this one, these five, these ten
unspin these cells
to spend this self
to, bought and builded, grow
brightwinged, tender, bold--

The world is full of teeth;
its wind is cold