Taking words and making a poem

dry throat my hands conclude generous hands under lace long heat. The quiet moment that stops death. Strange, shining, sinews, resonant, new food has like savage air of will and back out vaulting the free through prayer whistling sounding now murmuring simple bright darkened and my road the with its this I a roof in this and it my place insides time spores the terrace of the edge as the loaf light down into the sigh.