In cords of white heat   birds fold,
            wither to water like bits of stray  paper.
 
            A gesture worn thin    as a sequence of poses,
the tide’s  slow pull, tracks of waves  in the lake—
 
                        I sprinkle bread from the pier
                        & watch the gulls dive; their mouths hinging open
 
                     pops of pink against blue lake / white sky.  Color theory
 
broken down to the damp loaf
I scatter between fists;
 
treasure of gray gulls,  their star-shaped mouths

the beloved, beveled water: kissed & kissed.