Species of Dust

I will show you fear in a handful of dust. 

White dust of finger-bones, milled in flesh 

Pestles, and the dust of the Sybil’s teeth,

Grinding each night in her fairy-dust sleep. 

Dust of crumbled ages, condominium 

Sages. Neanderthal dust in the Paleo caves. 

The dust, full of hands, fearless.

Dust in the darkness of surrogate wombs, 

Taste of sawdust in dustbunny mouths, 

And the moon-dust descending, 

And the moon-dust descending, 

Gold-dust grit in a waste of brown teeth,

Hundred-dollar dust in chapped noses, 

The rust and the dust, exponential. 

Until no more hands to fill with dust. 

And the moon-dust descending 

And the moon-dust descending 

        the moon         descending 

And                  dust        ending