Close to poles and covered with hair | we can scarcely speak

without mentioning | proximity to the equator a barely perceptible

reddening | unless, if only our mothers | blush

to mimic the paleness of infants useless

as an indicator, withdrawing

light as needed | "Take shelter, there’s a storm coming" | the swells

of red are females shifting, by colors and carbon, carrying

reddish-blue, the rumps | after three days

of simulated tanning | “red sweat,” yellow | And she prepared to rub

poison in every crevice or crack, hollow or crease, until she could kill

every last one |