The sky has a body – it blushes, coughs 

with smoke, folds under atmospheric 

pressure, warms pink, goes cold and quiet, 

runs a fever, crowds with unwanted visitors, 

expels birds like a throat swallows stones, 

like a stomach stills a swarm of butterflies. 

The sky wheezes with its wind, loses its 

breath, belches thunder, heart beats shocks 

of electricity and weeps from every pore 

when it’s hurting.