In the silver world

my desire raises and

descends like a lip

swallowing the tide.

They said the sands

were full of silver,

so I dug my fingers

in like greedy roots

hot for the possibility

of stretching into

rhizomes. Conquering

takes so many forms:

one time you had

me on my stomach

and that was how

you did it. The others

hide their shovels

like guilty tails,

like fortune is only

okay if you stumble

upon it. But we all

understand the need

for force, the Winter

is fading and we are

waiting at the mouth

of warm dens.